First Watch of the Night
by HunnybadgerV
Summary: The first installment of a Mass Effect epic intent on exploring the voices and lives of Commander Nyx Shepard and her crew as they battle through personal demons, overcome powerful enemies, and seek something more than they ever thought they could have in the black sea between the stars. Note: Attempting to update on a 10 day posting cycle.
1. 01 First Impressions

A/N: Hi Y'all! This is a new series I'm working on that will span all three games, so strap in for the long haul. I thoroughly enjoy delving into the characters, both mine and the game's, so you'll get to know people in a new and interesting light. You will probably see some little traces of headcanon here and there, though major ones I'll try to point out. I hope you will enjoy this piece and please, read and review, I would really like to know if you liked this story or not, or any thoughts you'd like to share with me!

I want to throw many kudos and flowers at the feet of my beta readers-xforeverquotex, my paramour, and brownc0at. You guys are amazing and I appreciate your time and assistance with this piece. I would also like to thank some readers who assisted me in bringing this first chapter to fruition: Izanagi, Stealer-L1F3, drkhvn, and DarthSquirt.

Disclaimer: Mass Effect belongs to Bioware, I'm only playing with their universe. I do not own the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. I do it for the love of the game, the world, and the characters; and because they stuck with me long after I turned the game off (and back on, and off, ad infinitum).

**First Watch of the Night: 01 First Impressions**

i.

* * *

Ensign Michaela Scarlatti, woefully out of her depth, pressed her hand on her knee to calm the erratic bouncing. It got mutinous every time her nerves got the better of her, and this trip was the closest to the field she'd ever been. She was not even sure why she had been tasked with this job, except that she happened to have a desk right outside the conference room. And when an admiral like Steven Hackett points at you and says jump, that's precisely what you do.

"Damn nerves," she whispered to herself as her hands brushed over her pant leg trying to dust away her anxiety, because there wasn't a speck of anything on her uniform. A part of her hoped the knee wouldn't start bouncing involuntarily again on the return trip to Arcturus Station. She glanced at her data cuff; the shuttle should be arriving at the dreadnought soon. Scarlatti just hoped they would arrive before Shepard.

Somewhere up the chain of command, someone had decided to pull Lieutenant Commander Nyx Shepard and her team off a mission when an undisclosed task flashed across the channels. To prompt Alliance Command to pull any team, especially Shepard's team, out of a mission in progress it had to be something big. Scarlatti had no idea what, though, but that was her lot. Intelligence was not the glamorous job that the vids made it out to be. Most of the time she didn't know anything that was going on. She knew she was only even on that shuttle because she was just an analyst with poor taste in workstations. She compiled data and reports, but her clearance was way below whatever had set Hackett and her superiors to recall Shepard's squad.

The sound of the engines changed and then the shuttle seemed to hover, minutely shaking beneath her feet as the engines shifted the direction of thrust to land the vessel in the cargo bay of the dreadnought. The young officer stood as the shuttle's engines powered off. A_t least standing your knee want give you away_, she thought, glad that at least that telltale sign of her anxiety would be less visible with a mere change of position.

A low buzz emitted from the comm before a voice made its way through the system. "This is Everest Control to Arcturus Shuttle 0472."

The pilot keyed the communications and said, "Go ahead Everest."

"A-Seven's shuttle is inbound. ETA 2 minutes in Bay 2-E. I repeat. Two-Echo. Five bays aft of you Arcturus 0472."

"Thank you," she said loudly over the pilot's shoulder as he keyed to respond. She was rather hoping to make this introduction to Shepard without looking like a disheveled mess. "Damn," she muttered to herself. _The shuttles just had to arrive on top of one another_. She popped the hatch and sprinted out of the shuttle she'd boarded on Arcturus Station, reaching Bay 2-E in time to see a nearly identical Alliance shuttle touch down. Stopping near the nose, she took several calming breaths, though she knew they would do little to erase the traces of her exertion.

The door was opening when she reached it, and raucous laughter tumbled out onto the deck, causing the ensign to smile. At least until several pairs of sharp eyes focused on her, studying her, and then moving on. She'd never been looked at like that before, and it was a little disconcerting. "Hey, S-L. I think she's for you," a wiry man clad in nondescript, unmarked black armor called over her shoulder as he passed her.

"Stop scaring the natives, Sergeant," a gruff but distinctly male voice called.

"She's not a native," another man offered. His eyes moved over the ensign again in a way that made her feel incredibly vulnerable, not because he would hurt her, but because she knew that if anyone on that shuttle wished it, they could easily reduce her to a quivering pile of goo. Scarlatti had compiled intelligence for this crew, and read their after action reports; she was more than aware that every person on that shuttle was a capable and carefully honed warrior, the squad leader most of all.

"I'm looking for Commander Shepard," the ensign squeaked. She felt the blush warm her face as her nerves got the better of her.

"Leave the intel officer be," the strange but familiar voice called from the back of the shuttle. Some of the men were moving past the ensign, while others were leaning out of the way to allow Shepard to pass. "I take it you're the one they broke radio silence about and scrubbed my mission for." The commander sounded annoyed, but the ensign could not do anything but stare, as the woman slipped out from between two intimidating-looking men and hopped out of the shuttle.

Despite all the exhaustive effort she'd spent in learning about this crew, Scarlatti had not seen any images of the commander more recent than the ones from the Skyllian Blitz. She expected Shepard to be … _bigger_. But the officer looking up at her with a mix of expectation and stoicism was physically dwarfed by the men she worked with. _She can't be more than five-three_, the ensign thought as her eyes raked over the petite woman. "Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am."

"Damn, Shepard, you're getting better at that. Two sentences and she's already sounding off like you trained her," another imposing looking man offered as he slipped past his senior officer.

"Ignore Chief Jensen. So, tell me Ensign, what is so important that Command broke a mission protocol they demanded?" Shepard was referring to the stipulation for radio silence while the team was scouting the moon suspected to be a waypoint for a pirate smuggling ring. The commander guided the younger officer backward and away from the door of the shuttle with a careful combination of slow steps and a stern gaze. Five steps later, Scarlatti realized the two of them had been a bit of an obstacle.

Scarlatti shook her head clear, though she still freely stared at the other officer. _She has a nice shape to her; wonder if it's the physical conditioning. _The ensign was shocked at how surprisingly feminine she looked even in armor and covered in … _is that blood?_ "Umm. Yes, Alliance Command has tasked me with escorting you back to Arcturus Station."

Shepard crossed her arms over her chest loosely and leaned back, eying the other woman appraisingly. "Really? They sent an Intel officer to _escort _me?"

"Yes, ma'am." The ensign nodded somewhat sheepishly. Although the commander's squad had given the pair a wide berth, they were all still milling around the cargo deck and observing the exchange, albeit as covertly as possible in some cases, though there were blatant exceptions who did not even attempt to disguise their scrutiny or attention.

"What's this about?" Shepard pulled off one of her gloves and dropped it in her upturned helmet, which she cradled under one arm.

Scarlatti swallowed hard. "I don't know."

The commander raised an eyebrow at her. Scarlatti was familiar enough with Shepard's reports to know the officer's opinion of that particular phrase, especially from intelligence officers. "You don't know, huh?" The ensign offered another nod. Shepard pulled off her other glove dropping her gaze to her hands and offering the ensign a reprieve from the commander's scrutinizing gaze.

"Is there some kind of communiqué?"

Scarlatti offered another shake of her head, her shoulders shrinking a bit wishing she were anywhere but right there in that moment, knowing less than nothing about the situation.

Shepard bit her bottom lip. "Perhaps a self-destructing vid? Data pad with a decoder ring?"

A few chuckles rumbled around them.

_Maybe you can still redeem yourself_. She straightened a little and said, "No, ma'am. I was tasked with this on the fly. Happened to be in-"

"The wrong spot at the wrong time," Shepard interrupted, dropping the other glove in her helmet and eying the junior officer impatiently.

"Kind of, ma'am_." It certainly feels that way now_. Scarlatti grasped at the gold piping on the seam of her slacks tightly then realized the fidgeting had started again. Knowing she could only combat it one way, the Ensign clasped her hands tightly behind her back and tensed all the muscles she could to try and not let her nervousness show.

"All right," she conceded finally. "Can I shower first? Or are we slated for immediate departure?"

The hesitant look Scarlatti offered the other officer made Shepard sigh with clear irritation.

"Chief Jensen," the commander called with a wave. Scarlatti knew him by name only; he was also an N7 and had worked with Shepard for years. "No down time, children. Where's the shuttle?"

"Umm. Commander. Just you. Your team is being temporarily reassigned to Commander Lassiter."

The ensign jumped back when the chief tensed up. Shepard patted him on the shoulder.

"Down boy," she offered with a light chuckle. Then the two operators shared an intense look before she glanced around the bay at the rest of her teammates. "Don't give Lassiter too much hell fellas, and don't get me banned from this vessel while he's in transit," she ordered with a lightness to her tone that was in stark contrast to the tension in her brow. "Where's our ride?" Shepard asked when her gaze landed squarely on the nervous ensign.

The two women strolled across the deck toward the bay that held the transport shuttle bearing the designation Arcturus 0472. The ensign dropped glances behind her noticing that the men from the commander's crew were following them. Shepard tapped on the side of the shuttle to announce her intention to board and the doors started to open.

The display was striking. "Attention on deck!" Chief Jensen's gravelly voice boomed. Even people who were not clad in black armor snapped to, as did the ensign, out of sheer instinct. Shepard returned the salute and made a motion for the junior officer to enter the vessel first. "Good hunting, Commander."

"Give 'em hell, Seven," Shepard replied with a wink. Her men barked a bold reply which made Shepard smirk proudly.

The ensign keyed the panel to close the door then watched Shepard take a seat in the corner and lean back against the bulkhead. She stretched her legs out on the bench and tilted her head against one of the padded headrests while she held her helmet in her lap. Scarlatti was amazed. In so many ways Commander Shepard was larger than life, but she was short, petite, and not at all as butch as the ensign had been expecting. She took her own seat as the engines fired to life, her eyes studying the other officer.

"Please stop staring at me, Ensign," Shepard said quietly with her eyes still closed.

That was another thing that surprised Scarlatti-Shepard's voice. It was deep, but not masculine. It held authority in a non-traditional way. When the commander spoke, you merely felt compelled to listen; you wanted to know what she had to say.

The superior officer opened one eye and looked at her, Scarlatti felt a little ashamed that she was so awestruck.

"I'm sorry, Commander." She wrung her hands, as she leaned back and tried to redirect her gaze to anywhere but the N7 officer opposite her. "I… just… You're not quite how I pictured you."

The blonde laughed lightly and glanced over at the other passenger. "Yeah. I've heard that once or twice."

"Sorry," the ensign replied, still trying to look away from the commander.

"It's fine, Ensign." Shepard did not look quite as severe as she had on the deck, or so Scarlatti thought. "You know, some would say it's an advantage to be underestimated at first glance."

"Or a double-edged sword."

"Very true," Shepard agreed, leaning her head back again. "But I've figured out how to combat it when I need to." She shifted her shoulders slightly like she was trying to find a more comfortable position. "I'm going to try to catch a little combat nap, if you don't mind. If I'm not up, kick my chair when we're twenty minutes out, please."

"Yes, ma'am," Scarlatti agreed, though she knew it would be more likely that she would not be quite so rude about waking the other officer.

ii.

* * *

Lieutenant Commander Nyx Shepard's arrival on Arcturus Station went relatively unnoticed. The only people that were aware she was there initially were the Intelligence officer escorting her and the two men she'd been pulled off a mission to meet with-Commander James Lassiter of Special Operations Command and Admiral Steven Hackett, Commander of Fifth Fleet. Normally Shepard had the time, and the adherence to protocol, to at least hose the pirate blood off her gear before meeting with the brass, but this was their timeline so she had no qualms about the current state of her armor.

The meeting had been short, sweet and to the point, but it had left Shepard reeling and with a lot of unanswered questions, which she wouldn't even be able to ask for another twelve or so hours. Her career had just taken an unplanned deviation from the course it had been set on for more than six years. The only advantage she could find was that at least it happened on Arcturus Station.

Most of her possessions were kept safe in a locker not too far from the Fleet offices. She spent so little time there that she'd given up the apartment she tried to keep early on in her career, but between her training and operational schedules her visits to the station were little more than stopovers lasting a day or two at a time, making it seem like a waste of perfectly usable space. She'd given up the spacious loft, realizing someone could put it to better use than she had. Having grown up on ships and stations, she knew the value of personal space and knew what having one's own space to roam could mean to someone. To someone else the lovely loft on Lima Deck, with the window over the bed that looked out on the stars, could be a respite from the grind of life.

She spent an hour standing in the storage locker, packing a spare duffel bag with the blue fleet uniform of the day, her N7 black BDUs, and two of her dress uniforms. The other bare necessities joined a few sentimental items that she decided to take with her-photos, mementos, and a few things that reminded her why she joined the Alliance. All told it was barely more than two-thirds of the bag. She toyed with the idea of throwing some random items in there, but knew it wouldn't matter when it came down to it. She was headed to her team's load out room next, and after clearing her locker and grabbing a few more things there, it would be a little fuller.

When she first entered the space designated for Arcturus Seven, it was almost too much for her. Memories flooded back mixed with a healthy dose of good old fashioned rage, and she dropped the duffel bag and the case with her armor near the door and immediately left. Shepard always thought she was good with change. It had always been stability that made her uncomfortable. It was one of the reasons why she was so good at her job, the ability to adapt quickly. Some people didn't take to the lifestyle she led, which was why her team didn't have a lot of turnover. Too many people came to A7 with high hopes only to find the pace and the constant motion of the team to be more than they could handle. But in all that flux, it seemed, Shepard had carved out a little niche all her own. For five years she'd called that room home, those men family, and her job her life. And in a matter of minutes it was all gone.

_I just need a little more time to adjust, that's all_, she thought, not sure she really believed it. Outside the docks, she looked around and thought for a moment. A few decks away there was a special forces haunt that she knew stocked her brand of rum. But Nyx wasn't sure she wanted to be where someone might recognize her at that moment. Considering her options, she remembered the last time she was on Arcturus Station there had been a few other bars that had her drink of choice on hand, so she pulled up her omnitool and did a quick check. _One other: the Corona Club_ _it is_, she thought and crossed the station with purpose as her ire cooled with distance.

The deep bass pulsed with the black lights while the electronic melody was mirrored by the swirling movements of small multi-colored spotlights that washed people and objects in muted shades, which were bright enough to see by but not so bright as to actually illuminate. The Corona Club was designed to mimic the asari bars common to more xeno-eclectic places like the Citadel; it was not a place you expected to find on a human station. Nor was it Nyx's type of scene by any stretch of the imagination, but it had been the only other location stocking English Harbor at the bar. And after the shock she'd just gotten, good rum was all Lieutenant Commander Shepard was in the mood for.

Her eyes scanned the scene-too many twenty-somethings gyrating in designer Asari fashions, a few military personnel who looked more than a bit out of place, and then there were the self-important patrons dancing on risers and talking too loudly about nothing of consequence.

But at that moment, she just needed a drink and a place she was sure no one would pick her out of the crowd. Though the latter did not happen often, it was more likely in the places she preferred to frequent, which catered to specific military populations. She rubbed her palms on the tops of her thighs and continued her sweep, trying to find a place she could disappear, though in this crowd it would likely be pretty easy to go unnoticed, especially dressed as she was. The relative anonymity offered by a pair of well-worn jeans and a white cap-sleeved t-shirt added to her confidence that she'd be able to go relatively unnoticed and unaccosted in this place.

Her lips curved into the barest hint of a smile when she noticed the corner, dark and far away from any lights or speakers. It was perfect. It was precisely what she needed in that moment. She walked purposefully toward her destination, but stopped cold when she turned to round the large structural beam at the corner of the bar and caught sight of the shoulder of another clever patron, which suggested she was not the first to discover the redeeming qualities of the tucked away location. For a moment she reconsidered her plan, quickly deciding it didn't matter. Being out of sight and out of mind in a place like this was worth putting up with the presence of another human being.

Shepard felt better about it when she noticed that the other occupant looked as out of place as she felt. "May I?" she asked as she reached the bar.

"Sure," he replied without even a glance in her direction, which Nyx didn't mind at all. He seemed to be more interested in observing everything else.

When the bartender appeared she placed her order. "English Harbor, neat." The tall thin man in black nodded approvingly and walked back down the bar to find the requested bottle.

"English Harbor, huh?"

"Yeah, my grandfather's shame." She laughed. "Irishman with a granddaughter who has a penchant for rum." _Shut up, Nyx_, she told herself with a shake of her head. She'd always had a tendency to ramble when she was nervous or upset.

The man to her left shrugged. "I've heard it's worth it."

"Indeed, it is." The bartender returned and traded the glass for her chit. She gestured toward the man on her left with her chin. "What are you drinking?"

"Canadian whiskey."

"Uisce beatha." He looked over at her, his brow knitted with confusion. "Water of life," Nyx clarified with an embarrassed shrug before raising her glass. He raised his as well, with a tip of his head, then both returned their attention to their spirits.

Shepard was aware that he was watching her now. "If you don't mind me asking," he began, "what are you doing here?" She looked at him curiously and he sheepishly explained, "You don't strike me as the type to frequent a place like this."

She laughed as she looked down into her glass and opted to deflect the question. She did not like talking about herself, at all really. "I could ask the same about you," she replied with a quick glance.

"Yes. I guess you do have me there. See, my _ex_-friends," he said playfully as he looked and gestured toward a small group of people just down the bar, "thought this would be a great place to-" He stopped cold when he realized she was actually listening.

"To what?" she asked, though she was pretty sure she could guess the answer. The three men in the little group, Shepard had pegged when she walked in. She was fairly certain they, and her new drinking buddy, were military. The young women fawning over his _ex-friends_ suggested the reason they had chosen this spot.

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. The music's horrible and the lights could give a person a seizure. Only saving grace is the extensive bar."

Nyx laughed loudly in agreement. "It's one of two places on this god-forsaken station where I can find this rum."

She neglected to mention the fact that the other location was a more familiar and comfortable location which she had specifically avoided because she was craving anonymity along with said rum. He smiled at her and Shepard knew she was in trouble. At that moment she made a mental decision to stop at one drink. His eyes were warm and inviting and there was something about him that drew her interest. It was precisely the type of entanglement she tried to avoid when things in her life were steady. At that moment, it was in more than enough upheaval, she thought, and she certainly did not need anything else to complicate it with-especially a dark-haired, amber-eyed, well-built something. She shook her head to try to combat the rogue thoughts, but it was like the old adage goes: the plans of mice and men.

When he finished his drink, he offered to buy her a round. Also opting to try her drink of choice-praising it rather highly, or so she thought considering he was a whiskey drinker. They talked about nothing, the station, the club, the music; neither wanted to reveal more about themselves than was already patently obvious to the other person.

Nyx was pretty sure he was in the service, likely a marine: the tight t-shirt and the way he scanned the room suggested he'd at least seen a little combat action. She knew she had the same habit-checking a room for threats and exits, improvised weapons, and anything seemingly out of place was old hat for her. It was one of those ways that people like them could pick one another out of the crowd. She was certain she was obvious, even though she'd stripped her gear and most of the obvious signs of her service. When the rum was gone, Shepard opted to return the favor, and ordered two glasses of whiskey.

Swirling the last bit of the smooth amber liquid in her glass, she looked at her data cuff. "Damnit," she muttered as she noticed just how long those three drinks had taken. They had clearly done more talking than she realized.

"Hot date?" he asked when she hopped off her stool like she'd been bitten.

She chuckled as she leaned forward and tried to get the bartender's attention. "Kind of. Got a really early flight in the morning."

He nodded knowingly and finished off his drink as the bartender slid them both their respective credit chits. "Let me put you in a cab."

"You really don't have to do that."

When he stood, it put them in very close proximity. Both of them tensed up when they realized just how tight the space they had been sharing was. Nyx stopped, looking up at him, and, for a moment, could not think straight. It was awkward but somehow perfect at the same time-the warmth in his eyes made her blood boil, and though she did not want to move away she took a step back, allowing her a moment to clear her head.

"I know. But I was raised to be a gentleman," he revealed with a soft smile that threatened to melt her.

She laid her hand on his forearm, which was draped across the bar. "I appreciate the gesture, I really do. But I'm just around the corner." It was a lie, but it sounded mostly sincere.

"Then let me walk you," he offered as she turned.

She looked back and smiled at him, thinking he was sweet, adamant, but sweet. Nyx didn't need an escort; she was fairly certain she was more dangerous than 95% of the people on that station at that moment. "Thanks for the drink," she offered with a little wave, before cutting through the crowd toward the door.

iii.

* * *

Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko watched her cross the bar as he stood there frozen in the spot she'd left him in. When the door slid closed he snapped out of whatever stupor the mix of whiskey, rum, and her piercing sapphire eyes had placed him in. It only took a moment for him to decide to do something completely out of character and more than a little bit stupid. "Damnit," he whispered as he grabbed his chit off the bar and tucked it away.

His extrication from the crowd did not go as smoothly as hers seemed to, and by the time he hit the street and located her, she was about forty yards north of him. He relaxed a little, noticing she was taking her time. The coolness of the station air outside the club was comforting; he could not help wonder if that was the reason she was strolling so unhurriedly up the wide corridor.

Something about the way she avoided talking about herself combined with the very familiar silvery chain he'd noticed peeking out from beneath her collar a few times made Kaidan almost certain she was military, but as he watched her walk he started to doubt that assessment. Her hips swayed rhythmically with an erotic swish that set his nerves alight. Her honey blonde hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, and suddenly all he could think about was running his hands through it.

"What are you doing, Alenko?" he asked himself as he turned the corner she had and stopped.

The rationalist was starting to win the battle just as an excuse finally cropped up to allow him a fairly innocuous justification for his actions. Kaidan had been so focused on her that he'd nearly missed the sketchy little guy twitching. He was even more obvious than the officer felt.

The kid following her was thin set with dark eyes and Alenko was sure he couldn't be more than twenty. Something about the way the man moved set the officer on edge. Alenko looked back at her for a moment. She was walking, head down, tapping away at her omnitool. It was in that moment of her distraction that the other man made his move.

That area of the main commercial district of the station was less populated than the street the club was located on, though it did not matter to the marine; it could have been packed, and he'd have still responded the same way. He reached forward and halted the mugger's advance by wrapping him in a stasis field-freezing him in a lunge.

Using his biotics in public, especially in civilian areas, was something Alenko preferred to avoid, but it was the only thing he could do in that instance. He had simply been too far away to intervene in any other way. His drinking partner turned in time to see the young thug swathed in blue, and Kaidan stopped where he was as he prepared for the typical human reaction—screaming or something equally as dramatic and irate and scared.

Kaidan watched her for a moment. She looked from the thug to the Samaritan and smiled. With a nod she simply said, "Thanks, Canada."

He was taken aback by the moniker, but more so by the reaction, or lack of one. "You're welcome," he replied slowly, surprised that she was not worried about the display of biotics or his presence. "Sorry, I followed you. Just wanted to make sure … "

She waved it off as she took a few steps toward him. "Guess I should be glad you did."

His brow came together and he shrugged; she was nothing if not surprising. The stasis had worn off and the criminal had opted to attempt a hasty retreat and was clumsily scampering up the corridor. She rolled her eyes, turned and renewed the field with a quick twist of her wrist before Kaidan had the chance to.

Alenko's brow furrowed further.

"Pardon me," she offered with a slight, apologetic tip of her head before she walked toward her stunned quarry, who was frozen midstride. The kid looked at her with fear in his eyes, as she approached, her omnitool interface slipping away when she stopped and glanced at him.

"Don't worry, my little would-be criminal friend. The authorities will be here momentarily. Then I'll let you go," she said comfortingly, with a striking calmness in her eyes before she made the small mnemonic motion again and heard the target squeak.

"You're a biotic?" Kaidan offered when he caught up to her.

"So are you." Her voice and smile were playful, but her eyes twinkled with barely contained mirth. He was not sure what had caused it, but a part of him was hoping it was his persistence. "Now." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why did you follow me, Marine?"

He stuffed his hands in his pockets then looked at her in surprise when he realized what she'd called him. "Wait!" He studied her as she just raised her eyebrows at him, continuing to smile and look at him in that way that made it hard to think. "How'd you know my branch?"

The little shrug just made her all the more distracting. "Lucky guess?" She laughed when he looked at her with disbelief.

Her attention moved toward their silent third just long enough to shake her head at the thug before renewing his shimmering sheathe.

"I've spent my whole life around them. You've got that telltale look of determination, with an air of experience." Kaidan must have still looked incredulous, because she continued, "There's this look in your eye. Just something you only see in a select group of people." Her tone was serious for a moment, then she looked away and he realized his first instinct was right. She knew, because she was military as well.

When she looked back at him, the lightness had returned. "Then there's that," she offered, her eyes moving over him freely as she made a sweeping gesture in his direction. "Well-built, well-defined, and your t-shirt is … what? ... _one_ size too small?" When Kaidan smirked, she nodded knowingly. She ran her finger under the hem of the sleeve to emphasize her point before she tugged it gently and let it snap back against his skin. "Better to fit tightly across the chest and shoulders to accentuate the time you spend in the gym, most of which is actually for conditioning, not just ego."

He couldn't help but smile shyly, realizing she'd studied him just as closely as he had her. _She's good_. "Very perceptive."

"Well, it's in the job description."

He wanted to know what that work might entail, but their conversation was interrupted by the approaching sound of sirens. She spun and walked toward the landing air car, while Kaidan renewed the stasis on the young man.

"How're you doing tonight fellas?" she asked as the security officers joined her on the sidewalk. Kaidan felt a part of himself bristle when he noticed the officers ogle her a little too freely. She, however, chose to ignore it and gestured toward the young man swathed in a shimmering field of blue. "He is for you. Gift-wrapped and everything."

Kaidan tried to focus his attention on the officer questioning him, but too often his eye was drawn to the woman he'd met by chance and been entirely distracted by. She spoke quietly, but gestured rather actively as she did so. Once he even caught her gaze when he looked up at her, and she'd winked at him with a playful little grin that muddled his brain. Her interview was complete before his, but rather than going on her way, she approached him.

"Excuse me a moment, officer. Thanks again," she directed toward Kaidan.

"Any time," he replied.

She laughed lightly then closed the distance between them. For Kaidan, time seemed to crawl as she set her hand on his shoulder and leaned toward him on her tiptoes. She kissed his cheek lightly then whispered, "G'night, Canada," against his skin. She took two steps backward and offered him a little wave. "It was … interesting," she added as she turned and walked up the street.

All three of the men stared at her until she continued around the corner.

"So, do you follow women out of bars, a lot?" the human asked the lieutenant with a scowl.

"No. I don't," Alenko offered, still staring off in the direction she'd gone. Kaidan knew why the guy was asking. It was strange behavior and the biotic still was not entirely sure exactly why he'd followed her himself. He knew there was no way he could explain that to the security officer questioning him.

Kaidan just hadn't been willing to _not_ try something in order to continue whatever had started between them when she joined him in the relative isolation of the dark corner of the Corona Club. From the moment she asked to sit down next to him, he had not particularly been behaving in a manner typical for him. When he looked back up at the cop, he added, "But then I've never met a woman quite like that."

The officer tried not to smile, but Alenko could tell they were in agreement about the uniqueness of the female that had just left.

There were more questions, which the lieutenant attributed mainly to the fact that he had interfered in the attempted mugging and restrained the mugger bioticly. Though there were a fair number of biotics in the human population, only a small portion of those wore amps and used their abilities with any prowess. Those individuals were an unknown quantity for most people, and something feared by the general population. A lot of that was due to the health problems associated with exposure to element zero; even more of it was associated with the psychological issues and impairment that could accompany the procedure that allowed biotics to harness their power.

Kaidan shook it off. He didn't care if the cop was intimidated by it; _she_ hadn't been, which still surprised him. She'd seemed more concerned about him being in the service than the fact that he could manipulate things with his mind. In his experience usually it was the other way around: women were attracted to the uniform and freaked when they learned about the headjack.

A few minutes later, the officer was satisfied with the statement the marine offered, and it was as he watched the security officer climb into his vehicle that Kaidan realized he did not even know her name. He leaned there against the wall for a moment or two, as the flashing lights faded with the vehicle's departure. It only took a few minutes for him to convince himself it was for the best.

Despite the fact he had not met someone who'd truly piqued his interest instantly like that in too many years to count, he knew his new assignment would take precedence. It wouldn't be fair to start something new just when he was about to put out to cruise, he concluded. With that sliver of resolve he pushed away from the wall and walked off in the opposite direction as the distracting female had.

iv.

* * *

The door located at bulkhead SDB-E-27 was simply labeled A7; the only differentiation was the high security panel next to it. It was one of the few doors in the docking bays of Arcturus Station that were so highly secured. The petite blonde nodded at a blue clad MP just before she slipped through the door. The room was nondescript, except for a few touches that would go unnoticed by most. Lockers lined one wall. A large conference table dominated the mostly empty space. In the corner there was a heavy bag and free weights bookended by a pair of treadmills. There was a desk in the corner near a small shielded window.

Nyx walked over to the panel and pressed the control, lowering the shutter so she could take in the view one last time. For the last several years this room had been the one constant in her life. She was always on the move, from mission to mission, ship to ship, planet to planet. But she always came back here, with her squad. This was the home of Special Operations Team Arcturus Seven, though she knew that what really made this feel like home to her was not the location but the memories it held, memories of her teammates, friends-hell, her family.

"Everyone has to leave the nest sometime," she whispered to her reflection. It seemed apt in some ways but not in others. She was twenty-nine, and she'd left her parents' nest the day she turned 18. By twenty, she was a fully operational member of the special warfare community and for the last ten years she had seen a fair amount of the galaxy. She hopped out of the nest for N7 training, but was sent back as a squad leader and eventually a team commander. Now she was being taken from that comfortable and familiar place and forced into a position she never thought she'd hold.

Deep down somewhere, Shepard had expected that her career would end on some no name planet with an Alliance rifle in her hand, surrounded by a squad of warriors. But with her recall to Arcturus and her subsequent reassignment, that dark future seemed lost to her. Leaning her head against the glass she could still hear the words: Executive Officer of the frigate, _SSV Normandy_.

The commander stared into her own eyes, gritting her teeth again. "How could anyone think_ you_ are cut out for the line?" she asked herself. "What the hell did you ever do that makes them think you could be the head mistress of reports and leave?" There was no answer there; she couldn't even scrounge for one. Sure, she'd pissed off a few flag officers here and there, but never bad enough for them not to want her toting a gun into their combat zones. She punched the glass lightly and pushed away from the wall.

After a moment of silent consideration, she grabbed her duffle and ducked into the head. The shower did not help, but at least she felt more relaxed. It had taken less than twenty-four hours for her world to buffet like a shuttle with engine trouble.

"Two years," she told her reflection in the mirror as she pulled her crisp white t-shirt on and tucked it into her BDUs. "After two years, you can request reassignment back to the teams."

When she pulled the black blouse out of the bag, she was struck with a frightening realization. This move could stall her career; two years was a long time to be non-operational. A sense of dread rolled over her. Even with an N7 designation she could be looking at an uphill battle to get back to special operations if she spent two years playing politics on some damn boat.

She started replaying it all in her head. Her team had returned to the ship they had launched from a week earlier and were met in the cargo bay by an ensign that had orders for Shepard to make an immediate turn around and put out for Arcturus for a briefing. She had not even had enough time to shower and grab her gear. Once on the station she'd been met by her commanding officer, Commander James Lassiter from Special Operations, and Fifth Fleet's Commanding Admiral Steven Hackett. Those two men sitting in an admiral's office in Arcturus Command waiting to see her as soon as she landed put her immediately on edge.

"Commander, Alliance Command has chosen to reassign you effective immediately. You're being tasked as the Executive Officer of the frigate _SSV Normandy_." It sounded more like something he'd memorized.

"Sir?" she'd stammered. The look he gave her made her adjust her response. "Yes, sir," she barked. "Thank you, sir."

But she knew it had to have been written on her face-the myriad of questions, and the disappointment. "Lassiter is going to take temporary command of your team, until we can find an adequate replacement. They'll be in good hands, Commander."

With that revelation, her chest tightened to the point that she felt she could hardly breathe. The team she'd designed, trained, and built was being handed over to a trusted colleague until someone could permanently take over the command, her command.

Hackett leaned forward and looked at her. "I'm sorry to do this on no notice. We had a very different timetable planned out. But as you are well aware, plans rarely work out the way they are intended."

"Indeed." She looked at both men alternately for a long moment. "Will that be all gentlemen?"

"Just one more thing, Shepard. You ship out at 0700. Report to the dock by 0500. And good hunting," Hackett replied as he stood and saluted her.

She copied the action quickly, as did Lassiter. Then they shook her hand, leaving her with a salutation that brought a question barreling to the front of her mind. _Good hunting_ was not the sort of thing one said to a line officer. That was usually the way her operators opted to say goodbye and good luck to one another before they set out on a mission or new assignment.

The way he said it made her hope that her reassignment might also be temporary. But there was a more realistic part of her that knew she'd never be back in that relatively unknown and often overlooked space hidden in the lower docking bays, at least not as a part of Arcturus Seven. Shepard stood in the doorway tucking in her uniform blouse and trying not to see this change as losing something, as losing some part of herself. She knew Hackett and he knew her-her strengths and her successes, even her failures. There had to be some reason for it that she was not seeing. The admiral was one of the shrewdest men she'd ever served under; she just had to muster up some hope.

When her omnitool chimed, the commander turned back to her duffle and zipped it closed before shouldering the sparsely filled bag. She stopped at what had been her desk and pulled an amber bottle from the bottom drawer. Her fingers ran over the familiar black and gold label: Bushmill's 21-year-old single malt Irish Whiskey. It was her grandfather's favorite and she always kept a bottle around even though she was not a whiskey drinker; like carrying his knife, it made her feel like he was close, like he was watching over her. Scrawling a quick note on a sheet of paper from the pad on her desk, she set the unopened bottle on top of the note in the center of the table. Her guys would enjoy her simple farewell and she knew that when they got back there would be a toast to the time they'd all served together.

Shepard pulled the case containing her recently cleaned armor and her sidearm off the table and stopped for a moment. This was the closest thing she'd had to home since she was a kid. Her chest tightened uncomfortably as she slipped through the hatch to make her way up to the more respectable docking bay where the Normandy awaited her maiden voyage.


	2. 02 Ill-Timed Wonder

A/N: Hi Y'all! This is a new series I'm working on that will span all three games, so strap in for the long haul. I thoroughly enjoy delving into the characters, both mine and the game's, so you'll get to know people in a new and interesting light. You will probably see some little traces of headcanon here and there, though major ones I'll try to point out. I hope you will enjoy this piece and please, read and review, I would really like to know if you liked this story or not, or any thoughts you'd like to share with me!

I want to throw many kudos and flowers at the feet of my beta readers-xforeverquotex, my paramour, Nova 42, and brownc0at. You guys are amazing and I appreciate your time and assistance with this piece.

Disclaimer: Mass Effect belongs to Bioware, I'm only playing with their universe. I do not own the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. I do it for the love of the game, the world, and the characters; and because they stuck with me long after I turned the game off (and back on, and off, ad infinitum).

* * *

**FWN: 02 Ill-Timed Wonder**

**i.**

* * *

Captain David Anderson was not expecting to find his executive officer waiting for him on the docks. But when he approached the _Normandy_, he saw a sight that could only make him smile. The first time he'd met her she'd been perched much as she was now, legs pulled in tight sitting atop a few rows of crates. This time though she was studying the silhouette of the _Normandy_ not hiding out from other Navy brats who took the name too literally. Except the scene before him was a little more odd, mixed with a heavy dose of ominous. One of her hands held open the pages of a book laying atop the crate, while the other busily twirled a familiar-looking knife. Her eyes, however, freely wandered the ship studying and admiring it with the attention of connoisseur. He knew the blade, it had been her grandfather's and she always carried it-Shepard never liked to be without it. She'd told him once that the old marine had told her it would keep her safe.

He smiled to himself as he approached; she looked well but tense, and he suspected some of that might be his fault. "Shepard!" he yelled from down the deck.

She looked over at him with surprise, then her lips curled into a warm smile that lit her eyes. "You have got to be kidding me!"

The movement was fluid and graceful, unexpected for someone with the reputation she had for destruction. She twisted off the crates landing almost noiselessly before gliding toward him. She grabbed his forearm and he pulled her into a tight, warm hug that bespoke the more than twenty years they'd known each other. "It's damn good to see you, Nyx," He looked down at her holding both her shoulders tightly. "I'm glad you didn't say no."

"Like anyone would say no to Hackett."

He looked down at her and grinned. "We both would, and you know it." He nodded at her gear. "What are you doing out here?"

It was her turn to grin as she shrugged. "They reassigned me, but I don't have clearance to get on the boat."

His distinctive laugh rumbled and echoed off the metal surfaces of the dock. "Goddamn red tape."

"Story of my life."

"Grab your gear. I'll give you the nickel tour before anyone else arrives."

Anderson had met Nyx's father during the First Contact War, and you never forget someone that's saved your life, especially more than once. When his old friend transferred ship-side to make sure his daughter always had someone there for her, David was a little bit envious. Not only of Taranis Shepard's family but the fact that the man was strong enough to walk away from everything he'd worked for just for the sake of his girl. Anderson had met Nyx by accident, noticed the eight-year-old hiding in the cargo bay and remembered his own childhood, being the only kid hanging out in cavernous hangars while his dad worked on planes. He'd done the same thing, hidden out on the tops of crates, scaffolds, any place with a good line of sight where he could go unnoticed and watch the goings on, watch over his father. Seeing the little blonde tucked up out of sight, he'd also been struck by the loneliness of it all and figured she could use someone to talk to.

So he'd surprised her and joined her for a few minutes. They talked about the book she'd been reading, something for her history class. And he was struck by the fact that she didn't seem lonely up there all by herself. In some ways he'd been in awe of her even then. But looking at the officer she'd become, he was even more so. Shepard had done things few expected of her; she'd accomplished more than some do in their entire careers and she wasn't even thirty yet. He also knew that she was about to set out after the one thing he'd been unable to accomplish in his career, which provided David the chance to guide her again, though he hated that this time she was wholly unaware of any of it.

When the airlock closed behind them she looked at him, keenly measuring him. "So tell me something I don't know. And let me qualify that by saying, I didn't even know you were on this bird. Is she yours?"

He shrugged noncommittally. As the other door opened, a very feminine electronic voice announced, "The commanding officer has come aboard."

"Guess so," Anderson replied grinning at her. Shepard shook her head as she followed him. "I'll give you the skinny. The _Normandy_ is fast, quiet, and perfect for quick infiltrations and extractions."

He kept walking when she stopped, but when she didn't catch up he turned toward her. She was staring at him. "Then they're not… ?" She blinked a few times. "They aren't taking me out of the field?"

"No," he answered with a telling smile. "We're not taking you out of the field. We're just making you work a little harder for it." He noticed some of the tension seem to dissipate from her. "What did you think Hackett had suddenly gone stupid?"

She grimaced as she caught up with him. "Thought maybe I'd rattled one chain too many, or maybe just … the wrong one."

"Not yet. Just don't try mine," he cautioned as he led her to the crew deck to stow her gear.

The tour was over quickly and covered the essentials-head, bed, comms, and the bridge. Then Anderson left her to her own explorations as he attended to the duties of command.

**ii.**

* * *

Shepard had been glad Anderson had not ordered her to join him on the docks. The commander liked to claim she was mostly allergic to the press. She also didn't much like crowds, unless they were armed to the teeth and under her command.

Watching the scene on the docks reminded Nyx just how much had changed and how fast. Her comings and goings were never a matter of public record. Not that she imagined her being assigned to the _Normandy_ was all that newsworthy; it was merely the idea that the maiden voyage of the vessel she was on was a press event. All her past experiences with journalists were pure failures, except for the ones where she went unknown and unnamed.

The revelation that she would not be completely non-operational had stilled some of the storm, but Shepard was still reeling. She wasn't sure what precisely was happening, and more importantly she didn't know why. Though she knew her fate was dictated to her, to an extent, she didn't expect she would completely come to terms with her reassignment anytime soon. But she knew she had to lock her uneasiness down and get the job done. It was always how she approached her career, sidestep her life, even herself, and embrace the work, focus on the mission.

No matter how sleek the ship or enticing the descriptions, this was not where she saw her life or her career headed. Telling a ground-pounding operator that she is being reassigned to a line position as the Executive Officer of a prototype bird was beyond any concept of anything Shepard had ever seen in her future. She was only reluctantly the CO of her old squad; command was not something she sought, though it seemed it sought her. But the captain had offered her the promise that she needed to maybe make it through a two-year assignment to the line-the _SSV Normandy_ was designed to get people places fast and quiet and Shepard was just the kind of person that needed a ride like that most of the time.

The crew was trickling in by 0600 and, after having bumped into too many people that stared at her wide-eyed, she decided to find a low traffic area to skulk in and observe from, which was how she wound up in the cockpit. The scene on the gangway past the ship was familiar to her but more so from a different point of view. All her life she'd been part of the crowd on the other side of the dock, wishing one of her parents, usually her mom, safe journey and watching them leave. The commotion was a little different from her current vantage point: families, cameras, press, brass, all gathered to send the _SSV Normandy_ off into the rolling black sea between the stars-entrusting this state-of-the-art vessel with the safety of their loved ones. Part of her was glad to miss the pageantry of it all; it was not an event Shepard saw herself playing part in.

Anderson finally returned to the boat, relieved by command of having to press any more flesh or give any more interviews. He opted to join his XO in the cockpit, though he stood in a more obvious location than Shepard had chosen. "Commander," he greeted, passing her a mug of coffee. "Any of those yours?"

She heard the airlock close then shook her head. "They're both cruising."

He nodded silently. "Thought there was a …"

She slowly turned her head and looked at him incredulously.

"What?" he shrugged.

She was still eyeing him in a way that made him feel a little like prey.

"Last I heard there was some admiral's boy, right?" he asked looking at her.

"No, sir. Suffice to say there hasn't been a … one of those since … well, let's just say long enough." _Combat operational N7s and lovesick men don't mix well._ She lifted the cup to her lips. "And as for the admiral's _boy_. That was precisely the problem." She looked back out the window and shifted away from the uncomfortable topic. "Parents are cruising. Friends are probably stomping dirt somewhere." Another small group of crew moved down the bridge from the airlock. "You?" She thought she knew the answer, but she asked anyway. He'd been divorced since before she enlisted for the same reasons she was single-trying to mix combat and commitment often seemed like trying to mix oil and water, sometimes you got a wonderful concoction out of it, but all too often the parts just separated and went sour.

"I did get a bottle of scotch from Admiral Hackett," he disclosed with a playful tone.

She thought about it for a moment before she said it. But she took the shot. "Hmm. Very nice. Never would have guessed, but you two do make a cute couple." She'd surprised him; he was choking on the coffee he'd managed to inhale rather than spit all over the helm. Shepard took his mug and slapped him on the back a few times. "You all right there, Captain?"

"Fine." He took his mug back when she held it out to him. "Goddamnit, Shepard. I'd almost forgotten."

"Glad I could remind you," she replied matter-of-factly.

He chuckled at her and shook his head. "What do you think of the _Normandy_?"

"She's probably the most beautiful ship I've ever seen. And that whole stealth aspect. Absolutely stellar. Every SpecOps team could use one."

"True, but I don't think that's in the budget."

"It's a crying shame. But I must say it should be interesting to be the one to kick the tires."

Anderson looked at her pointedly. "Do not scratch my ship," he ordered, gesticulating with his mug.

"Yes, Dad," she replied, holding up her hands in mock surrender.

They were both chuckling when the airlock opened again, and the sound of scampering footsteps caused the commander to peek around the corner in time to see two crewmen hurry up the walkway, dropping nervous glances behind them as the third party walked slowly into the ship. "Captain. Commander," the tall turian addressed with a discreet nod to each in turn.

Shepard straightened and moved to her commanding officer's side. The turian's assessing gaze was not something she was uncomfortable with; most humans she worked with and every turian she'd ever met had eyed her similarly. He was looking for a sign of weakness, waiting for her to flinch. And it wasn't going to happen, but she did return the inspection in kind.

"Glad you could make it," Captain Anderson said, shaking the alien's hand, choosing to ignore the silent confrontation he was party to. "Shepard. This is Nihlus Kryik, Council Spectre."

She knew who he was; his reputation loomed large, and she'd heard about him when she worked with the turian special forces years earlier. He'd risen out of their ranks. "Lieutenant Commander Nyx Shepard," she replied.

"I am aware. Good to finally make your acquaintance," he intoned. He betrayed nothing. Though Shepard had a few turians she would call friends, she was not adept at reading them in the slightest. Nihlus let go of her hand and turned to the CO. "Can we speak privately, Captain?" Anderson ushered the turian off the bridge.

Within minutes Shepard found herself joined in the cockpit by someone who actually needed to be there. "Excuse me, ma'am," greeted a lanky man less than a head taller than Shepard. As he slid past her carefully, his eyes skimmed her uniform, stopping on the telltale patch that tended to declare her identity for a few seconds. "Commander," he corrected as he straightened and saluted sharply.

She returned it. "Shepard," she advised with a questioning raise of her eyebrows.

He shook his head clear after a moment realizing what she was waiting for. "Ah, … Moreau, helmsman."

The commander nodded. Flight Lieutenant Jeff "Joker" Moreau-his was one of the few personnel files she'd gotten through before people started arriving. He tentatively shook her hand when she offered it. "G'morning, Lieutenant."

After he slipped into his seat, he stared at the controls, traces of pure awe etched on his features and present in the delicate way he touched the panels. If she hadn't known better she'd have thought he was praying. _H__ell, maybe he is_. _This ship must be a pilot's version of heaven or maybe even God_.

A few hours earlier she had realized precisely why the brass chose her for a position most wouldn't consider an operational N7 officer for. And it was all contained in a few sentences buried in the stack of briefings Anderson had forwarded her. _"Prototype deep scout frigate… optimized for solo reconnaissance missions deep within unstable regions."_ The details of its stealth systems and drive core were relatively lost on her, except to assure her that wherever she was going the _Normandy_ would get her there fast and unseen.

Shepard opted to slip into the co-pilot's seat and sip her coffee. Joker finally glanced over at her. "What are you doing?"

"Drinking coffee," she said, showing him the mug more clearly in case he missed it.

He nodded, but watched her out of the corner of his eye. "Don't touch that," he said quickly when she leaned toward the console and eyed one of the telemetry readings.

She wasn't a pilot by trade, but like all other N7s, she knew enough to get a bird through a relay or land one in an emergency or steal one, if the situation called for it. On this ship, she knew there were enough other people that could take the helm that her emergency flight training wouldn't come into play. She liked flying well enough, but it wasn't her calling. She was better on the ground and with a gun.

She tapped her temple. "Eyes only. I wasn't going to touch."

"Good," he muttered a little too loudly. It was her turn to shoot him a look. "What? I heard about the shuttle you _tried_ to pilot back during some training exercise on Earth."

She laughed loudly at the recollection. It was bright and full of mirth. People within earshot on the bridge couldn't help but smile in response. "How the hell did you hear about that?"

"I have friends. They like to talk." He was smiling at his console. He'd taken a risk by mentioning it, and she didn't mind that he knew about one of her early failures.

"Man." She sighed overdramatically. "Crash one little shuttle into your CO's car and you never live it down."

"And the XO's and the Medical Officer's," Joker added quietly. "Oh"-he held up his finger-"and the Command Chief's."

"Damn, you've got good intel."

"What can I say, pilots are a chatty bunch," he replied with a wink.

"Are they now?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Some of them can be."

She took his reply at face value, as well as the unspoken suggestion in it. "Well, hell. I really wanted to take this beauty for a spin," she replied with a slump in her shoulders.

"Over my dead body," Joker said seriously to his console.

Shepard hopped out of the chair she'd taken up and looked down at him with a dark mischievous smirk. "The pilot said to the hand-to-hand expert."

Joker tilted his head and looked her in the eye. "But see, you wouldn't kill me, Commander. Not after you see what I can make this beauty do."

Shepard laughed and patted the top of his chair, as he returned his attention to the panels. She hadn't gotten through all the personnel files, but she had read Moreau's, including the recommendation from the turian representative. It was a bold move, one she admired. The flight lieutenant knew he was the best man for the job and he wasn't about to let anyone tell him different. She'd never stolen an entire ship to prove she was the person you wanted handling a mission, but she could appreciate the gesture. He'd out flown all the guys they scrambled to bring him back in, then docked the ship and surrendered. It was a calculated risk that paid off in the end; he'd impressed the turians and several officers including Hackett and Anderson.

Joker had guts and skill-something that went a long way with Shepard. She couldn't help but like someone who would go to such great lengths to prove he was the best man for the job. It was a trait she could appreciate and one she'd demonstrated more than once. Plus Joker didn't seem to be intimidated by her, which she appreciated.

"Guess I'll leave you to it, Mr. Moreau."

**iii.**

* * *

Several of the _Normandy_'s officers, on their way to the ship, were stopped by press officers and hand delivered to various reporters. They had all been briefed on what could and could not be said, but Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko was hoping to avoid it. He'd almost managed to get through the throng of people when a very chipper ensign grabbed his arm.

"There you are, Lieutenant. I thought I'd missed you," she chimed, dragging him back into the crowd.

_I should be so lucky_, he thought as he followed the brunette toward a small, smiling Asian woman. "Emily Wong, this is Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko."

The young woman shook his hand. "You're the head of the marine detail aboard the _Normandy_, correct?" she asked through narrowed eyes.

He could tell there was something buried beneath the fairly innocuous question. "Yes," he answered as the ensign peeled away and made a beeline for another officer trying to escape.

"So, have you worked with Commander Shepard before?"

"No, Miss Wong, I have not." He studied the reporter; her face betrayed her surprise, which explained why he'd never seen her on one of the networks, though her name was relatively familiar.

"Are you aware of her reputation for-?"

"Pardon me, Miss Wong. I do not know the Commander, and while I do know of her, it is likely that your information on her is better than mine. Do you have any questions about the _Normandy_ I can answer?"

Wong smiled, and it made Kaidan feel slightly more uneasy. He didn't like reporters and he wasn't a social butterfly like Pressly, who seemed to be thoroughly in control of the angry little man who was hounding him for information.

"No. I think I've got everything I need." She tapped her omnitool closed and he assumed the recording had stopped. "Shepard's going to like you. Tell her I said hi."

Kaidan watched her move toward Pressly with that hungry look back in her eye. He glanced around and noticed the press officer seemed distracted enough to allow for another escape attempt. He slipped through the crowd and up the gangway, but was halted by the airlock. The chime of his omnitool extended the promise of distraction while he waited for the airlock to clear. A message from Joker flagged important flashed at him; he laughed to himself as he tapped at the interface, knowing the pilot's version of important rarely qualified as such.

_Joker: Hey, man! You here yet?_

_KAlenko: No not quite. The press ninja grabbed me and fed me to a reporter._

_Joker: Damn! Glad I skated past her when she was wrangling Adams._

_Joker: Oh, I grabbed you a bunk in the darkest corner like you were saying earlier._

_KAlenko: Appreciate it. Thanks._

_Joker: Hey, no problem. Just met Shepard._

_KAlenko: Really?_

_Joker: She's so not at all what I was expecting._

Kaidan leaned against the docking sleeve of the gangway. _KAlenko: How so?_

_Joker: She actually has a sense of humor, though for a second I thought she was going to eat me alive._

_KAlenko: That's because of your tendency to engage your mouth before your brain._

_Joker: Yeah. Whatever. _

Kaidan grabbed his bag and stepped into the airlock once it opened.

_Joker: You never worked with her, right?_

_KAlenko: No. Why does everyone want to know that?_

_Joker: Dunno, but damn! _

_KAlenko: What?_

_Joker: She doesn't look like those pictures from the Blitz Nunez was flashing around last week. Hell, she doesn't look like Special Forces._

_Joker: Oh! BTW, get your ass up here so we can get this flight check kicked out._

_KAlenko: OMW. In the airlock now._

_Joker: Hurry the hell up already. _

As he stepped onto the ship, Joker was peeking back around his chair. "She might still be on the bridge. Tell me what you think when you get back up here. And in case you missed it … Hurry!"

Kaidan laughed and made his way below decks to drop his gear. As he crossed the crew deck and trotted up the stairs, he stretched his neck to relieve the bit of tension he felt building up there, attributing it to the short stint with the reporter. As much as he knew it didn't matter, he couldn't help be curious about Joker's observations about Shepard. The only one on the ship that could claim to have met her in person as far as he knew was Anderson, though Corporal Richard Jenkins, one of the marine detail, was a huge fan. But as for Alenko, he knew what most anyone else knew: the executive officer of the _Normandy_ was a highly decorated N7 with almost as much combat experience as the captain. The lieutenant wasn't sure what he was expecting, but part of him figured on someone serious, dedicated, and possibly severe in temperament.

He glanced around the CIC, but the only females were some of the enlisted sailors he'd seen on the bridge before. Then the stark glint of white caught his eye; but for the sliver of undershirt peeking out of the black BDUs, he might have missed the figure entirely. The uniform served to help camouflage her in the shadowy corner of the CIC opposite the door he'd entered through. At least, he guessed it was Shepard because the few operational N7s he'd seen all wore black BDUs. Then he noticed the white lettering of the patch and knew his guess was right. She seemed oblivious, or maybe that's what she wanted people to think. Jenkins had mentioned one evening that N7s saw everything, but Alenko couldn't help but think that was part of the mystique about them.

"Shepard!" The captain's voice rang across the deck and Kaidan watched her straighten and close the book she'd been reading-he was surprised to see an actual book in her hands; they were not unheard of but they were rare. Within a few steps, she looked up and stopped cold as her eyes met his.

For Kaidan everything froze. Those eyes had haunted him for the last twelve hours, then she smiled slightly, not as telling as the one she'd flashed at him as she walked away the night before, but it was still warm and enticing. For a moment he forgot how to breathe as he gazed at her, thrilled by her smile and shocked to see her again. Then, as if realizing everything he had forgotten too, her eyes changed, mirroring the anxiety he began to feel about seeing her there-on the bridge of the _Normandy_. She shook her head and looked away; when freed from her intense gaze, Kaidan felt like he could breathe again, though not well due to the tightness in his chest. When she disappeared into the communications room, he turned and continued on his way to the helm in a bit of a fog.

He'd thought about it last night, even that morning-running into her again. But he never imagined it happening at all, certainly not on the ship. _Why did it have to be here of all places?_ He'd almost had himself convinced he'd never see her again, had almost chalked the whole evening up to a missed opportunity. _And that's precisely what it was_, the rational side of his brain argued. _Whatever happened last night it ended the moment you stepped on this ship_, he tried to convince himself, but he wasn't sure it was working.

When he caught sight of the helm consoles he couldn't help the thought that rushed into his head. _Oh, God! I'll be spending the next ten hours with Joker._ If Shepard came to the cockpit during that time, Moreau would be sure to pick up on Alenko's unease. Kaidan took a deep breath and realized he'd just have to hope she would avoid the bridge. Or maybe he would get lucky and manage to be able to push it all into the background. He shook his head, knowing that probably wouldn't happen. Perhaps he could just go for focusing his attention elsewhere. In this instance, perhaps the consoles would be his friends and make it possible to not look like a stark raving schoolboy with a crush if she happened into that part of the ship.

Joker looked over at the staff lieutenant as Alenko slipped into the chair to the pilot's right. "Tell me she was still on the bridge."

"Uh huh." _Yes, good short answers. _Kaidan figured it might be best to respond to his associate's questioning the same way he had the reporter-succinct answers that held no promise of undisclosed information.

"Tell me the truth. Not what you were expecting, right?"

Alenko turned his attention to the checklist. "Nope." Kaidan was quickly realizing that the consoles might save him from more than just Shepard.

"Holy hell!" Joker was shaking his head as he tweaked a set of output calibrations. "I mean a guy I know told me I wouldn't believe my eyes. But I thought he meant she'd look like a female krogan. Not …"

The last two steps were loud enough to be heard and both men turned toward them. "While I have been compared to a krogan before, this is the first time it's been a female one. Have you ever actually seen a female krogan?" Shepard asked matter-of-factly with one eyebrow cocked slightly higher than the other as she eyed the pilot.

"Sorry about that, Commander," Joker responded, turning his attention back to the panel in front of him and slouching in his seat. "And no, ma'am, I haven't."

"Not a problem, Flight Lieutenant. Just might want to exercise a little more caution in the future. I've heard they can be quite sensitive about such things. Female krogan, that is," she suggested as her eyes moved to the officer still facing her.

Kaidan felt like a deer in headlights. The console had betrayed him.

She watched him for what felt like forever, though the rational side of his brain knew it was mere seconds. "Lieutenant Commander Nyx Shepard," she announced, offering him her hand.

He opted to try to bury his discomfort under protocol and hopped out of his chair before shaking her hand. For a moment he thought it was him, then with a glance down he realized the tingle tickling his palm was her-the barest hint of a faintly blue corona slicked intermittently around her hand. When she realized it, she pulled her hand back and clasped it behind her back as her entire body stiffened in response. "Staff Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko. Tasked with leading the marine detail, ma'am."

The flex of her jaw and the flash in her eyes told him more than he wanted to know. The idea of it was just as hard for her to take as him. Perhaps she was hoping that because he was up front with Joker that he'd be easier for her to avoid. But finding out she would be working with him seemed to set her off-kilter. It was something he hadn't imagined seeing. Shepard was described as this buttoned-down always-in-control officer. In that moment he was seeing something else, but he wasn't sure what yet.

"Good to meet you. Anderson speaks highly of you. I'll leave you gentlemen to it." She turned and then stopped. "Mr. Moreau, I need an estimated time to completion on those checks."

"No more than seventy-five minutes, ma'am. I'll see if I can make it less," Joker told his console.

"I'll inform the Captain."

Kaidan looked over at his friend, whose eyes widened with the unspoken question that was in both their minds. _What the hell just happened?_ He could tell by the look on Joker's face that both men were expecting to wind up on the business end of an ass chewing after the krogan remark, but the commander didn't balk. Then there was the introduction. He wondered if that had happened when she sat next to him at the bar the previous night if he'd be quite in the predicament he was currently. He knew the answer-if either of them had even declared rank, he knew he'd balk. And figured she would have probably walked away before her drink arrived. Kaidan shook his head and returned to the task at hand. _C__ombat distraction with distraction_-he knew it would only work for so long, but he hoped by the time it stopped working he'd find a way around it, find a way out.

**iv.**

* * *

Shepard was glad Anderson had revealed all the little secrets of the ship in his nickel tour. After the introduction that came way too late, she was certain that her reassignment just became way too long. The gym was a tucked away little area on the cargo deck and she needed a place to hide. When she passed through the hatch she pulled off her BDU blouse and made a beeline for the treadmill. At that moment politeness was not her concern. Besides, she had the room to herself, so who would complain about her taste in music? She turned on something loud with a pounding bass line and tweaked the machine's settings.

The music drowned the sound of her voice as she talked to herself. "What the hell were you thinking, Nyx? You knew he was military before you opened your damn mouth. Then he gets all chivalrous and you go soft in the head."

She gritted her teeth and quickened her pace in an effort to push past the thought or maybe outrun it. Shepard lost herself in the combination of the music and the sound of her breathing for several minutes before her mind caught back up with her.

"And how the hell did you wind up flirting with one of the handful of marines on the entire station who is completely off limits?"

Nyx didn't flirt. The rare times she went out it was usually with friends or crew. She hadn't been on a date in longer than she wanted to admit. And last night she'd almost done something colossally stupid and the only things that had stopped her were the time and a mugger.

Slowing her pace, Shepard considered her options. Command would not transfer her out. She doubted he'd request a transfer. She stopped for a moment, looked up at the ceiling, and contemplated yelling profanities at the bulkhead. The loud music might go ignored, though not necessarily unnoticed, but her yelling a vibrant string of random expletives might raise a few questions, at least about her sanity if nothing else.

Shepard sprang off the treadmill and glanced over at the reflective wall opposite her. "What are you thinking? Nothing happened. So you had a few drinks with a squad mate. Nothing you haven't done a million times before."

She stared at herself. That statement was only partly true and she knew it. Usually when she drank with her fellow soldiers she wasn't completely aware of her pulse, nor did she study them quite as thoroughly as she had the lieutenant.

"Damnit."

Her hands rested on her hips as she paced in a short line along a seam in the deck. "Nothing happened." Trying to convince herself, she whispered it with each step.

"And nothing will," she added, looking up at herself again. The glare was one she usually saved for others who needed convincing, but part of her hoped it might work as well on herself as she repeated it in her most commanding tone. "And nothing will."

Her blouse was in her hand as she stalked out of the gym, after taking a moment to blank her features. No one else needed to know that the executive officer was irritated with herself, and they most certainly didn't need to know she was struggling against an irrational interest in a man on that boat.

After her stint in the gym and an invigorating shower, Shepard found a nice quiet spot where she knew she'd go relatively unnoticed. There were only a few female officers aboard the _Normandy_, which left the female Officers' Quarters relatively barren. But at least the commander could finish up the briefings Anderson had forwarded in relative peace.

Trudging through tech write ups on the ship, duty rosters, and the detailed description of her own position on the vessel made her eyes burn. But she knew she'd have to get through it all eventually so she pushed on to the personnel files. Most of them were cursory: name, rank, specialty, service history, positive and negative write ups of any note, and commendations. The service record books of the ship's officers mirrored those of the enlisted men. Anderson had compiled the records of the marine detail in one file and these were more thorough, at least as far as Shepard's clearance would allow.

Once she got through them, Nyx leaned back in her chair and laced her fingers behind her neck. _At least Anderson remembered_, she thought as she considered the people he'd pulled for the _Normandy_'s detail: Alenko, Chief McMillan, and Corporals Crosby, Jenkins, and Niveda. _Two of everything, redundancy_. Well, except for another N7, but that was to be expected. The ship already had two; three would be unheard of for one command. And there simply weren't enough soldiers bearing that designation to allow for it.

Shepard had to admit the _Normandy's_ squad might be relatively green, but they were a well-rounded group. All of them had decent marksmanship scores, two boasting sniper tabs. Three were trained as combat engineers. Then there were the two biotics, both officers. Reading Alenko's jacket only confirmed that Shepard would have to maintain control; Anderson was right, there was a lot of potential there. The recommendations and commendations were striking and bespoke his command potential as well as his combat experience.

Her fingers tapped absently on the table as she considered her options. She needed to see these people in action, but this was a shakedown cruise. That was not likely to happen. So she'd have to do the next best thing. _Push them, stress them, and test their limits_, she decided as she stood and crossed the room.


	3. 03 Control and Amplitude

**Summary:** The Normandy's shakedown it not only technical; the timing of the departure left Shepard with no time to train the marine detail. A combination of things lead her to try an alternate training method that she hopes will help with team building as well as held her get a bead on the Staff Lieutenant.

**A/N:** This is a new series I'm working on that will span all three games, so strap in for the long haul. I thoroughly enjoy delving into the characters, both mine and the game's, so you'll get to know people in a new and interesting light. You will probably see some little traces of headcanon here and there, though major ones I'll try to point out. I hope you will enjoy this piece and please, read and review, I would really like to know if you liked this story or not, or any thoughts you'd like to share with me!

**Acknowledgements:** I want to throw many kudos and flowers at the feet of my beta readers-xforeverquotex, my paramour, and brownc0at. You guys are amazing and I appreciate your time and assistance with this piece.

_Disclaimer:_ Mass Effect belongs to Bioware, I'm only playing with their universe. I do not own the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. I do it for the love of the game, the world, and the characters; and because they stuck with me long after I turned the game off (and back on, and off, ad infinitum).

* * *

**FWN: 03 Control and Amplitude**

**i.**

* * *

The first few days of the shakedown run had been spent acclimating everyone to the ship's schedule. They ran on a twenty-four-hour cycle that corresponded with Earth's for ease of communication with Command. Shepard set out requirements for two hours of physical training per day for the marines in the ship's detail, which she liberally extended on a regular basis.

The chief and the corporals were tasked to back up the MP security detachment on the ship. Crosby and McMillan had been detailed to ships before and understood the expectation of the cross-duty assignment, but it wasn't a familiar assignment for Niveda or Jenkins. Despite this, the two younger servicemen took to it quickly. Alenko spent his time with the flight and engineering crews, filling in wherever he was needed, though he was officially designated to the flight crew.

Their daily drills were limited to hand-to-hand combat and physical training. Unfortunately, the ship didn't have full training facilities like other larger vessels in the fleet. There wasn't a full running track or separate training rooms, and there was no range to speak or, not even a modified one. Frigates were small, fast vessels, and they were lucky that this one's design allowed for a reasonably-sized gym in the cargo bay.

Leaning against the wall, Kaidan struggled to get his breath, just like all the rest of them-well, except for Shepard. She wasn't winded despite the fact that she'd been right there with them every step, every exercise, though she occasionally stepped out to yell her own special brand of encouragement at them both individually and as a group.

"All right," she said reluctantly. "Dismissed. But I'll see your smiling faces bright and early tomorrow."

As the enlisted members of the detail filed out of the room, she watched them, arms crossed over her chest. Alenko couldn't really read her, but he had started picking up on things and the look on her face told him she considering something, perhaps the torture for tomorrow, or maybe just wondering what was on the menu for the day in the mess. That much he still couldn't tell yet.

"What's on your mind, Lieutenant?" she asked, seeming to notice he'd been studying her.

"Not much right now ma'am. Too tired to think." They both laughed brightly. "This is reminding me of candidacy."

"Yeah, that's the point."

The commander walked over to one of the treadmills and tapped the console a few times. He couldn't fathom it. After what they'd just done she was going for a jog on top of it. The muscles in his legs ached at the thought of it.

"Stress them and test them?" he muttered, crossing toward her.

"Along those lines. Oh and fair warning," she offered as she tapped at the controls of the treadmill, increasing the pace a little. "Eat a big breakfast tomorrow."

He just looked over at her curiously as he leaned against the machine next to the one she was on.

"There seems to be an overwhelming lack of experience working with biotics in the Alliance military. In my time I've found your people are a little easier about it if they know what you can do _to_ them as well as _for_ them." Her tone was matter of fact.

He was sure his surprise was written all over his face. She was being rather nonchalant about her suggestion; despite people like he and Shepard commonly joining the service, most soldiers were extremely trepid about working with biotics. He didn't realize that the suggestion came from personal experience, and that she had put each of her old team members through their paces in the past precisely because she found it helped to ease the tension associated with a lack of direct knowledge.

"You're just jerking me around, right? Trying to gauge my response?"

"Not in the least."

"You want me to …?" He wasn't sure what she wanted him to do.

"It'll be much nicer if you do it. Plus, they are already intimidated by me. And a good friend of mine always says: a little healthy fear of your direct superiors isn't a _bad_ thing." She was grinning widely and her pace hadn't faltered once during their conversation Shepard took long steady strides as she ran toward nowhere, she just seemed to be enjoying it.

"That part was a joke." The glint in her eye and the casual shrug made Kaidan wonder if it really was a joke. Then her tone went serious again. "Think of it like weapons training, they need to know _what_ and _who _they are working with. My guess is you'll be gentler than me."

"Why would you say that?"

"You've been pulling punches with the Chief in hand-to-hand," she said flatly as she came to a sudden halt and stepped off the machine.

_Oh, shit. Jenkins had said that N7s could see it all. He just didn't suggest what exactly _all_ entailed._ "Noticed that?" he asked the floor tile beneath his boots.

"Why?"

Kaidan looked at her again straightening and crossing his arms over his chest. "Chief's a nice guy. We've worked together before. And I didn't want to lay him out in front of them all."

"Like I'm going to do to you tomorrow?" she interrupted his thought as she walked across the room and grabbed her water bottle. He stared after her for a stunned moment then approached her. She glanced up at him. "Yeah, I'm serious."

"For what reason?"

"There has to be a reason?"

It seemed like a dare for a moment. Then he realized she was still watching him. _Observing me, more like_. He didn't reply. He wasn't sure if she wanted one or not, but he didn't have an answer for that question anyway. Thinking back he'd have to wager that most of his instructors and trainers didn't really need a reason for a training exercise. Though Kaidan still wonder what might be the impetus for the suggestion that Shepard had made.

She finally looked away as she stretched her neck, rubbing a one spot for a moment. It made him realize she wasn't as immune to the fatigue they were all feeling as he'd initially considered.

"They're all being too nice. Training's not about nice. You put each other through your paces to make sure that when you need that person to have your back, they _damn well __have your back_. You learn what to expect from one another. Learn to count on people. Learn to read them, anticipate them," she continued, as her gaze fell on him again. "Everyone's playing nice. And you get to be the martyr for the team. Besides, you could get lucky, and knock me on my ass. Doubtful, but it could happen."

"Is that why you warned me?"

She walked backward toward the door. The look on her face was an impish dare and it both intimidated and enticed him all at once. "Hey, I try to be fair."

He blinked at her a few times, waiting for his head clear, before he replied, "Then why didn't you warn them?"

"They are just getting toyed with. Tossed around a bit," she explained with a dismissive wave of her hand. "They'll love it. They always do. See you in the morning," Shepard concluded as she slipped out the door.

_Yeah, and what are you doing to me?_ He watched her pass out of sight through the doorway as he stood there, seemingly cemented to that spot from fatigue and uncertainty. _There is no way that this will go well_.

When Alenko made his way to the cockpit, he opted to do a little research and pulled up the commander's service record on one of his consoles.

"What's that?" Joker asked, leaning over just enough that he could eye the text.

"Shepard's jacket."

The pilot studied his friend for a moment, which encouraged Alenko to reveal what Shepard had announced less than an hour earlier. "Are you cracked, Alenko? Going brain-to-brain with _the_ _Commander Shepard_? You're going to wind up a smear on a bulkhead, man."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

With a shrug, Joker replied, "Against anyone else on this ship, well, except maybe Anderson and the turian, I'd put my money on you. But even if she doesn't get close enough to drop you, you are going to go down."

"How can you be so sure? I can hold my own, you know." Kaidan was a little offended that his friend was siding with his challenger, though if he were honest with himself Joker's assessment was probably right on target.

Joker laughed ominously. "Yeah, but I don't think that's going to help you with Shepard," Joker quipped and Kaidan rolled his eyes, ignoring the reference and returning his focus to the information on his XO.

Everything in her file backed the pilot's prediction up. Though it didn't talk about her skill in great detail, it mentioned her being a very powerful biotic with assessment scores off the charts when she enlisted. About the only criticism he found about her prowess was her lack of finesse in using her biotics and she depended on firearms neglecting her biotic abilities. He couldn't help but wonder if that last factor was compounded by her role as an N7.

Something she said made him wonder if her own experience working with biotics was limited, or maybe she leaned on her weapon prowess because she just didn't have the in depth training some biotics got. He shook off memories of his own training and continued to peruse one instructor's evaluation of her abilities: _Striking power, which she neglects. Could use more training in control. Her abilities tend to be large but weaker than they could be. Exercising more precision could lead to a significant increase in the amplitude of her powers. At this time she remains heavily reliant on emotional and situational triggers._

The last line stood out to him, and he couldn't help but wonder what precisely they meant. He was aware that biotics in emotionally-charged situations could show signs, and that sometimes people could spike higher given certain emotional triggers-like fear and self-preservation. That fact he knew first hand.

The next morning Alenko had taken her suggestion and fueled up for a grueling day. He just hoped it wouldn't end with him curled up in the fetal position in a dark corner in the medical bay. There were extra crewmen in the gym when he arrived, and not just medics. Off-duty crew were milling around the edges of the gym, in the doorway, and in the cargo bay beyond.

_Joker_, he groaned inwardly.

Dr. Chakwas shot him a curious glance when he stepped into the relatively confined space lined with mats on three walls and mirrors on the last. Shepard must have gotten there first and prepped the room, it was an idea that should be comforting but only served to increase his lingering anxiety.

"Good Morning, Doctor," he said as he came to stand next to her.

Dr. Karin Chakwas eyed him carefully for a moment. "You wouldn't be willing to tell me why I was asked to be here with multiple medics on hand, would you?"

"The commander didn't tell you?" he asked cautiously. Chakwas was measuring his response. Alenko shrugged, surveying the activity in the room. Shepard had set it up for sparing, and the extra mats did not go unnoticed.

"Come on, now," Shepard offered from behind them. "If I told her everything, the good doctor here would have to tell me all the reasons why I shouldn't do it. Then she'd have to threaten me. Possibly even call Dad, who may or may not feel the need to intervene."

Alenko had to stifle a laugh at her reference to their captain.

"Then I'd have to be stubborn and rebellious, and ignore it all. Probably get multiple lectures for disobeying orders, possibly even a nasty little letter added to my book. Way too much trouble." She smiled at the doctor and Alenko was sure Chakwas lost a little color.

Shepard's volume rose with the next statements. "All right people. I'd like to thank our _Normandy_ med staff for being here. More than you know." She looked at the squad she was trying to hone and smiled in a way that could only be meant to generate worry, if not a little fear. "How many of you have worked with a biotic in the past?"

Kaidan raised his hand, as did McMillan as he shot a quick glance at the lieutenant. Shepard nodded, she'd read in their files that they'd done a tour together and Alenko had mentioned it.

"How many have gone up against one?"

Only Alenko this time.

"That's about what I thought. So, Lieutenant, you ready?" All the eyes in the room were suddenly on him.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied without a trace of the concern he felt about this little exercise. He didn't do a lot of sparring with biotics, and never with anyone with actual combat experience. But he was determined that no one but himself would be aware of his hesitance.

She made a dramatic gesture toward the matted area then winked at Chakwas. As she passed by the doctor, Chakwas grabbed Shepard's arm and whispered sharply in the younger woman's ear. Shepard smiled and nodded a few times. "Oh, it'll be fine," she said a little more loudly to the doctor. Then turned her attention to her junior officer and called, "Are you worried, Lieutenant?"

"Not at all, ma'am," he lied, rather convincingly he thought, as he turned to face her.

Shepard stopped at the edge of the mat and turned her back to him; she ignored the concerned exchanges of the medical staff and looked at her detail. "I've noticed something the past few days. Even though I've asked you not to, told you not to, and _ordered_ you _not_ to," she said with overdramatic emphasis. "You people are still pulling punches and taking it easy on your teammates. Even Alenko did it. Now in the past that would have probably meant a lot of yelling on my part and people getting run to the brink of exhaustion." She stopped moving and set her hands on her hips. "But we don't have that kind of time here. So we're going to try this by the trickle down method."

Her expression became serious in the blink of an eye as she leaned forward, her hands crossed over her chest. "But after this display-the next person to pull a punch goes toe to toe with me." She grinned at the reaction. "Ah good, we understand one another. I do so hate to repeat myself," she added lightly as she glanced back at the lieutenant.

The shuffling near the door announced the arrival of the captain and the Spectre. He hadn't figured this little event would go unnoticed, especially since Joker knew about it, but he hadn't expected this kind of audience. The lieutenant knew that he probably shouldn't have informed the most well-connected man on the ship about the match, but he'd needed someone to talk to about all this. Because he was just as intimidated by Shepard as much of the rest of the crew, though the only person he'd ever admitted it to was the pilot.

Alenko was smart enough to know that officers shouldn't go around broadcasting their weaknesses, or perceived weaknesses, to the rest of the crew. He only told Joker because he knew that as chatty and informative as the helmsman of the _Normandy_ could be, Jeff was a stand up guy who knew precisely what could and should be said and what needed to remain in the vault.

The commander nodded to the men at the door then took a deep breath and crossed the mat toward the Kaidan. Every move was calculated and intended to create a desired response. She wanted to intimidate him and set him in the right mindset for her to push him-hopefully, past his limits. Leaning her head slightly toward each shoulder, she stared at him coolly. When she stopped, she was more than fifteen feet away. Joker had been right; she wasn't planning on laying a hand on Alenko, which, strangely, wasn't a comforting thought. Her actions were measured, as were his reactions to them. And it quickly became clear to him that this was more than an exercise, it was an assessment. He tried to take her intimidation in stride.

"You've got this L-T," McMillan offered in support. His sentiment was soon echoed by the rest of the team.

Shepard touched her chest and glanced at her crew. "Ouch. No love." Her tone mocked hurt, but her smile was genuine and their reaction seemed to please her. She turned her gaze back to Kaidan. "Whenever you're ready, Mr. Alenko."

He nodded. Kaidan felt the slight tightness of the stasis creep up his legs before he could even decide if he wanted to attack first. _Damn, she's fast_. He hadn't even seen the movement that set it. He broke the stasis as quickly as she'd placed it. _And that was weak. No, it was a trick. Just to play with you, to get into your head._ He watched her for a moment, uncertain. He didn't want to take the first shot, he assumed from his late night research that she'd be more comfortable reacting to his attacks and didn't want to play into her strengths.

The smirk suggested she might know where his mind was at. Shepard tugged him, setting him off balance just before she threw him; it worked to offset him, which had been the intent, but he came back up quickly and pulled her into the air. It was short-lived; she grounded herself quickly before pairing a movement with her left hand with a forceful motion leading with the heel of her right palm. He righted himself from the pull as the blue skipped across the mat toward him and his dodge was late.

_Goddamn, she's pushing. And now I'm the one left reacting. _She was proving more offensive than he had anticipated. Everything in her file spoke of using other tactics before her biotics; her ease with this display distracted him from everything he thought he knew about her methods.

Kaidan pulled up his barrier to fend off her next strike. _What am I doing? Going head to head biotically with someone this powerful. Hell with this! She wants us to stop pulling punches, then let's pull out all the stops_. His omnitool lit to life as he sent an electronic burst her way. She dove, but it tracked her. _Now she's reacting._ He pulled her into the air. The barrier pulled her back down, and she sent the controlled orb of energy at him, and then tossed him again.

The exchange continued for a several more minutes. Part of him knew she wasn't going full out, but she moved so quickly and fluidly that he had trouble thinking anything out too thoroughly. Despite his desire not to be, he was merely responding to her barrage with barely any time to think things out. After getting thrown off kilter by another shockwave he righted himself in time to pair a warp with a watered-down cryoblast. He lost track of her for a moment, until she was in front of him in a burst of energy that pushed him backward. He bounced off the thickly padded wall a few feet behind him.

Chakwas had been on her feet the entire time, inching toward the mat the longer it went on, but when she saw Shepard charge the move she'd stepped onto the mat. "I'm calling it," the doctor yelled.

It came half a second too late. Kaidan had decided on a response and lunged at the commander with a glowing fist, which connected with the distracted woman's jaw. He'd reacted as he'd been doing almost the entire fight, and once his head caught up with the rest of him, he regretted it.

Everyone in the room froze and stared at the two officers. The lieutenant stumbled back a step as the barrier shimmered off the commander's lithe form. Kaidan looked up at her, expecting to be laid out, thinking he deserved it.

Shepard's laugh broke the stunned silence. The sound was playful, but the busted lip and blood on her teeth made it look maniacal. "About damn time somebody threw a real punch. Toss me a towel, Crosby," she ordered as the silent and wide-eyed corporal complied, still staring at her as she ran her tongue along the inside of her mouth.

"You good, Alenko?" she asked, offering him her hand. He shook it and her nod assured him there were no hard feelings.

He was a little winded from the hit, but that wasn't really a surprise. He couldn't help but stare at her, and deep down he couldn't help but think that was precisely the outcome she'd been looking for, or something like it. He'd expected to be laid out for the reaction, but she just seemed delighted about the whole thing, though he felt a bit like an ass.

Now that the main event had concluded most of the crewmen, including the captain and Nihlus had vacated the cramped space and left the medics and the ground team to the rest of their training for the day. While the whispers went unheard, the glances cast in Alenko's direction didn't go unnoticed. Most of them seemed shocked. He wasn't sure if they were surprised that he survived, that he'd punch Shepard, or that she hadn't killed him for it. In the end he knew it didn't really matter at all.

"Nice hit by the way. You play rugby much?" Kaidan joked as he leaned against the wall at the doctor's insistence.

"Nah. Not my game," she replied crossing the room and hopping onto the table the team was sitting on. "But had this mean asari vanguard as a tutor, who thought every biotic needed to know how to charge."

She straightened up slightly and with a mocking and superior tone offered her best impression. "The psychological power involved with instantly appearing in your opponent's personal space and thrusting them backward using their own power against them is immeasurable." She touched the towel to her mouth again. "Comes in handy from time to time."

Kaidan laughed as he approached the table. "Well, she was right. Threw me off-completely."

"That was the whole point." She looked up at him and her eyes seemed to confirm what he'd started thinking. Shepard had been pushing him hard and fast to get him to let loose, to open up on her. And he'd played right into it.

**ii.**

* * *

The commander had gotten precisely what she wanted out of the match. She knew he hadn't gone all out, at least until the punch, but then she hadn't either. She really wanted to see how he would handle the situation. Would he back down or step up? And he'd more than stepped up; he'd jumped up, which she was satisfied with. But she still wanted to know what level of biotic intensity she was working with, and it looked like she wouldn't find that out until they were actually in the field.

Dabbing at her at her lip to stem the rather free flow of blood, Shepard glanced around at the faces on her team. They were not intimidated by what had happened. They seemed to grasp the lesson she was aiming to teach.

When the doctor turned her attention from the lieutenant to the commander, Shepard held up a hand. The familiar metallic taste of her own blood spread was still fresh on her tongue, but she didn't need medical attention. "It's a fat lip, which I deserve for not paying attention. I'm fine."

The doctor muttered something and her scowl intensified.

"Oh yeah, encourage me to give you something to do," the commander replied with a playfully challenging tone then looked at Crosby, who flinched a little. She knew she was going to have to find a way to get him more comfortable around biotics, or maybe he just wasn't comfortable around _her_. "All right, I think it's time for show and tell. Lieutenant, you're on."

Alenko laughed when the team followed her gaze and stared blankly at him. "Who's feeling adventurous?"

Shepard wasn't surprised Niveda volunteered first. The commander remained at her perch to watch the rest of the show with Dr. Chakwas standing next to her. "That was not the smartest choice, Commander. Two biotics duking it out. _On the ship_."

"I cleared it with Engineering first, and I warned him. Not like I sprung it on him." She glanced in the direction of the woman whose face suggested she clearly did not believe the commander. "And I needed to know what to expect out of him. I'd like to have seen how he'd react after the charge, but someone's overdeveloped maternal instinct stopped it short," she added with a little laugh to show she was just teasing the medical officer.

"Someone else could have been hurt. Or one of you two."

"One of us did get hurt." She smiled, which added a sharp sting to the little throb in her lip. "But he's still holding back," Nyx disclosed, watching the lieutenant fling recruits into the air with a very controlled pull. "He's got to open up a little more; there's more power there. I can tell."

A few times she'd felt ripples of it in the abilities, there seemed to be waves in the power amplitude, which suggested to her there was more there. She knew that had both muted their amps, even if she'd gone all out she wouldn't have been able to kill him if she wanted to with her biotics, though a concussion could have been likely. But even with the headjacks tuned to training parameters, he was manipulating the size and power of his skills.

Nyx looked over at Chakwas whose face bore a look of consternation. "What? He should be spiking higher. According to the captain, he's one of the most powerful and skilled biotics in the service, even though he's holding back. If he opened up," Shepard said, shaking her head as she shifted off the table and crossed the room. Nyx grabbed a small bottle of orange juice out of the refrigeration unit near the door.

"You wanted him to go all out?"

"Of course. That was the point of that little exercise."

"You didn't," Chakwas rightly accused, crossing her arms over her chest. Shepard eyed the _Normandy's_ medical officer. "If you had, he'd be in my med bay after that little charge-discharge display. Or have you forgotten that I've seen you in action, Commander? I've seen you kill a man with that same move."

Shepard leaned closer, her eyes locked on those of the older woman. "I wasn't out to injure him, just see what I'm working with. And hopefully discourage him from holding back. But even with everything I threw at him, he was still measuring everything. He never opened up, even with his tech, though that seemed a little freer than his biotics. I don't have time for them to play nice. I have limited time and resources to turn these people into a team I can take into the field."

Chakwas nodded, the look on her face suggested that the doctor finally realized precisely what the commander was driving at.

Shepard leaned back and her face lost the traces of concern. "I know Anderson handpicked them. But these people can only be described as inexperienced, even if they have incredible potential. I have to prepare them. They have to be ready for anything, and right now they are not." Shepard looked at the doctor and revealed, "I'm trying…"

"I understand." Chakwas smiled and set a comforting hand on the younger woman's shoulder. "Let's get something on that lip," she ordered as she crossed back to the table Shepard had vacated.

Shepard stared at the wall and took a long pull on her juice. She didn't think anyone noticed it. She hadn't held back on much else. But that move she knew could put an armored man in the hospital, even with safety considerations in place. She wasn't willing to take any chances. Team building usually fell apart when you put a member of that team in traction. She rubbed her tongue along her lip again_. Stop doing that or you'll make it worse_. The voice in her head was her father's, not her own, and it made her chuckle to herself as she crossed to the doctor.

In her discussions with Anderson, he had mentioned that she would still find herself on the ground, thus the need for this team. Her concern was that someone wouldn't be ready. And it was her job to make sure they were. The lieutenant commander took a deep breath and turned back to the display. The team actually seemed like they were enjoying themselves. But then in her experience her old squad had always liked the no-holds-barred sparring matches too, especially if someone had gotten mouthy enough to call the commander out on "that fancy blue brain shit," as one overzealous ensign had termed it.

Tension flared up after things became a little too relaxed. Everyone froze when Jenkins hit the ground, hard. They stared, but no one moved. Chakwas pushed one of her corpsmen out of the way as she moved toward the mat, and Alenko blanched. Then the corporal popped up, hands triumphantly above his head. "That was AWESOME!" The gym filled with laughter.

Shepard crossed the mat with a relieved smile and clapped the corporal on the shoulder. "All right. Let's call it, people. Get out of here. Go on, out of my PT area." She listened to the sound of the retreating stampede as she made notes on her omnitool.

"Hey!" There was enough of a pause for her to turn toward Alenko before he tossed something in her direction. "Catch!"

She grabbed the bottle flying at her. "Thanks." She finished up her notes then closed her omnitool and looked over at him.

"So, if that little show was all about getting them to stop holding back, why am I not in the medical?" He raised the water bottle to his lips and stared at her with a trace of a satisfied grin on his lips.

Shepard smiled and nodded. The main point of the displays had been show and tell, essentially. The squad now had direct experience with the arsenal the two officers were working with. But that wasn't the only reason. She'd only rarely worked with biotics; she too wanted to know who and what she was working with, just as much as she wanted the rest of them to know it. And while Alenko wasn't the first biotic she'd worked with, he was the first she'd placed in a position of sparring with her.

"Because that wasn't the only goal." She took a drink as he nodded. He was still staring at her, waiting. "And now they've seen what I'm capable of. They've experienced what you're capable of. We are no longer an unknown quantity in their minds." Another nod. He didn't seem satisfied yet. "What? Do you want a do-over?"

"No, thanks," he relented, holding up his hands and chuckling. "My neck's probably going to be sore for a day, or so, as it is." He rubbed at the top of his shoulder for a moment, rather unconvincingly.

"Whatever you say, L-T," Shepard replied with a smile. "Which reminds me. Nice punch." She set the bottle down and leaned her hands against the table between them for a minute before she found the best way to ask. She opted for the most diplomatic approach she could muster. "You are very controlled in the use of your biotics, but freer with your tech. But you were holding back in both departments. What gives?"

He looked at her curiously. "I'm not sure what you mean?" His gaze dropped to the water bottle for a second.

She could see that he did, but she wasn't going to push it yet. He didn't really trust her yet, as an officer or as a teammate, so she wouldn't harp on it. She just wanted him to know she was aware of it. "Don't get me wrong. You seem to have great precision and you can pack a punch, but there seems to be almost too much control in the amplitude of your maneuvers."

He nodded slowly as he looked at his water. "Hmm. Don't think I've ever heard it put like that before. I'll look into it, Commander."

"Sure thing," she replied, straightening. "Thanks for the water, Lieutenant." Shepard slapped him on the shoulder and left him standing there in the empty gym. She wouldn't bring it up again, but at least he was thinking about it, which was what she wanted.

"Anytime, Commander," he answered.

**iii.**

* * *

Kaidan thought he'd imagined it, the hitch in her step when he'd replied. He hadn't intended to repeat the last thing he'd said to her the night they met, but her reaction told him he wasn't the only one that still remembered it, in his case, too vividly. It made him wonder if he wasn't the only one having trouble putting it out of his mind, as well. But part of him knew it didn't matter.

He'd made the decision long before he even got the assignment that his career came first. And this position was one he didn't intend to lose because he started thinking with the wrong head. He watched her walk out of the room, wondering if his response had been the right one. He measured all his exchanges with Shepard differently than he might have if not for that chance meeting; part of him wondered if it was really necessary.

When they were working with the squad, things seemed totally on the mark, but there were other times when things seemed to be more difficult. He looked up at the ceiling and drank his water, not moving for a long time.

Joker's voice echoed in his throbbing skull. "All right, stop basking in your survival and get your ass up here. The heat transfer rate is fluctuating erratically again. We're going to have to recalibrate it for the third time this week."

"Give me ten?"

"Sure thing. Not like we're under the bubble right now anyway."

The lieutenant slipped out of the area and up to the crew deck. As he stepped out of the elevator, he bumped headlong into Shepard-piercing blue eyes blinking up at him, wet hair down, wearing shorts and a t-shirt, arms filled. It was like that first night all over again for a moment, he couldn't move or breathe. Then the fog cleared and they both shuffled in step a few times before they stopped, calculating a solution that would end the little dance. Kaidan grabbed her upper arms and held her still for a moment then sidestepped her and ducked into the corridor that lead to the male officer's quarters.

He slipped into the room he shared with the other male officers and leaned against the wall just inside the door when he found the room empty. His mind raced. Some moments it was all so crystal clear and under control, then the next it was all up in the air again. He could feel his pulse racing, blood thudding through his veins. "Get a grip, Alenko," he told himself as he crossed to his bunk and dug out his shower kit and a clean uniform.

**iv.**

* * *

The lieutenant commander sat on the edge of her bunk buttoning her blouse as she chastised herself. She'd thought the balance was shifting; they worked well together and when they were working, things seemed fine, perfectly normal. It was in those other places, when things weren't clearly professional; those were the places where it was harder. She sighed as she stood and swiped her blouse into her BDUs.

When she stepped in front of the mirror to pull her hair up, a thought trailed through her mind. _Not sure I'll ever be quite used to Fleet Blue_. A part of her missed what her guys called the N-black (her black BDUs that bore her N7 tab), but she was fleet now and she needed to portray it. Shepard just had to be glad that Anderson didn't expect her to follow Pressly's lead or his own on the uniform of the day. Bridge officers were supposed to wear their dress uniforms, but the captain knew that might make her rebel eventually and had given her a reprieve, so her uniform of the day corresponded to the other working officers of the crew.

Her hair was naturally long and straight, though her preference for wearing it up usually left a little hint of a wave in her hair whenever she did let it down, which was extremely rare. Unless she was just out of the shower, then it was stick straight as usual. She put it up quickly and finally ducked out of the female officers' quarters, crossing the crew deck quickly before she stopped at her CO's door.

Surprisingly, the hatch slid open when she keyed the panel. "Captain," she called sharply as she entered and stood just inside the doorway.

**v.**

* * *

"Have a seat, Shepard." He joined her at the table in the center of the room. "Interesting display downstairs."

She tipped her head and made noncommittal face. "It could have gone a little better."

When she'd brought the idea up to him, he'd been skeptical. He had used similar techniques in his own crews. Sometimes you could kill two birds with one stone, get people to trust you as well as test their limits in one fell swoop. And he knew her goals were along that line, as well as just a little farther. Being a biotic hadn't been easy for her. The revelation had been a little traumatic.

She'd gone for a physical with her mother on Arcturus Station, and the doctor there was more thorough than most could be on ships. Ship doctors didn't think to test someone for signs of biotic potential. And when the doctor told them, Nyx had rebelled against it, fought her parents and the doctors every step of the way. When she'd been implanted she shut down on all of them, even him. And that was a role Anderson had always held-confidante-when her parents pissed her off, when her friends were out of contact, she'd always turned to David, but in that moment she had been lost to all of them.

Eventually she found a way through it with the help of a retired asari, who'd spent time as a commando in their armed forces. Shepard had told him years later that she didn't even know what it meant to be a biotic, and that even in the service, where biotics were more common than elsewhere, they were still misunderstood and feared.

The sparring match had been about pushing the lieutenant as much as about showing her team, maybe even the crew, that biotics was just one more weapon. And though they might not understand it, per se, they would at least see it and know what was happening around them when either Shepard or Alenko used biotic abilities in combat.

"I told you not to inform Chakwas," Anderson noted. "She is very protective of her crew. Like the rest of us."

"I only asked for a corpsman," Shepard shrugged. "When I wouldn't tell her why, she insisted."

He laughed as he leaned back in the chair. "So, did you get what you needed?"

"No, he was holding back."

"That punch was not holding back," the captain said.

She smiled. "No, it wasn't. But that was the only time he let loose. Even the tech was weak. And reading his record, he's marks and scores are stellar. He never stopped looking at it like an exercise." Her fingertips tapped in an odd rhythm on the tabletop. "His control is remarkable. I was pushing him hard, but I did get him to stop thinking, eventually. Toward the end, he was just reacting." She stared at her fingertips, she was mulling over something.

"Damnit!" she blurted finally, standing and kicking the chair back.

Anderson didn't say anything. He knew what was coming and had seen it building, so he waited.

"Why didn't Command give me any time on the ground with these people?" She stared at him for a moment before she set her hands on her hips and paced in a precise straight line. "Two weeks. I could have done it in two weeks. Got in some range time, assessed their marksmanship. PT'd the hell out of them then run them through a few kill houses, maybe even a full scenario if I could have pulled a tango team."

When she stopped, he stood. "I know. And that had been in the original timetable," he said as he crossed to her and set his hands on her shoulder.

"Then why accelerate?"

"Wasn't our call."

"Who?"

"The Council," he admitted.

Anderson knew she was aware of the Council's interest in the _Normandy_. He also knew that she didn't have the full story as to why they were interested in the vessel. As much as he wished he could tell her everything that was going on, he was still under orders, the information was still need-to-know, and Shepard's name still wasn't on that guest list.

"They called Hackett, said it had to be now. The admiral was not going to put this ship out without the XO he wanted on the boat. So your timetable got slashed."

"Fucking politics." She sighed. "I just hope none of these guys pays the price for their impatience."

"These marines are up to the challenge. You know I wouldn't bring in people who weren't."

"I know." She looked up at him before she slipped out of his hands and wandered around the room."But they are green as hell, except McMillan and Crosby. And even their experience is incredibly limited. Jenkins and Niveda have next to no time in the field. The only one I'd feel comfortable taking into the field right now is Alenko."

"Why's that?"

Shepard raised her eyebrows at him in surprise. "Did you read his fit reps from Expeditionary?"

He looked at her like she'd lost her mind, or at least forgotten who she was talking to, and she chuckled lightly response. Major Fowler was the commanding officer of the 103rd Marine Expeditionary Unit, and he had a reputation for not liking anyone and writing the most honest reports about operations and his people.

Shepard leaned against the wall. "We both know Fowler. That man's more hard ass than both of us combined. The recs he wrote Alenko were beyond anything I've heard from him before. Hell, add that to the salarians' requests after the first time he worked with them. They've practically begged Command to send him back, twice."

"I've seen a few turian letters like that," Anderson noted with a sideways glance at her. She pursed her lips impatiently and glared at him for changing the subject unbidden; he couldn't help but laugh. "You're telling me like I don't already know."

"No. It's just …" Her eyes searched his for a moment, like she was searching for the answer to whatever question she was trying to work out. "He's talented."

"The team looks up to him. Probably more so now." He couldn't help but laugh. "I mean come on. Got charged by Commander Shepard then decked the same. Boy's going to get some mileage off of that."

Shepard disagreed and her body language showed it. "He's a good officer. Talented engineer and a powerful biotic. That's what he'll get his mileage off of."

"With you. With me. Yeah, that's what it comes down to. But with the men, he'll be the biotic that busted Shepard's lip and lived to tell about it. Though I doubt he'll be the one telling that story," Anderson noted.

"Yeah, best to leave that to Joker," she quipped.

Anderson was well aware that the helmsman was one of the best sources of intelligence on the ship, at least as far as rumors, conjecture, and stories people didn't always want told were concerned. But he wanted to go back to something she'd hinted at earlier. He needed to know her thoughts about the marine detail and their readiness. He knew what was coming, and he knew these marines would be pushed harder than they had before. The Alliance brass had planned on a training period, but when that didn't happen some questions had been raised by the brass and in his own mind.

"Are you worried about the abilities of any of the detail?"

Shepard propped her foot up on the wall behind her, then looked at the ceiling for a moment, trying to find the precise words she wanted. It was something that she'd always done in some situations. Mostly, she said what she felt but there were times when that wasn't always prudent, and in many of those she was careful in her words choice.

"No, not as such. They are combat ready. They work well together. They just …"

"Aren't your old team?" He understood where she was at.

The commander shook her head. "It's not that. No, they aren't A-Seven, and I don't expect them to be. But they haven't even run a combat exercise together. And we both know that anything can and does happen out there. I just want them to be ready. And I'm not completely sure they are."

"Why?"

"They don't trust me. They don't know me." She shrugged and ran her palms lightly over her thighs then looked over at him. "They still think I'm _the_ Commander Shepard, they aren't seeing me as their squad leader."

"It'll happen. It always does with you. But it's going to take a little while for them to see that you're just like them." He crossed to her and touched her shoulder lightly. "Trust has to be earned, we both know that. Until they trust you, until they see the grunt under the medals, they'll do what we all do in the beginning: follow orders and get it done."

The notoriety was tough for Shepard, mainly because he knew she saw herself the way her soldiers saw themselves. She was an operator-give her a mission and the tools and she would get it done. _Hell, half of the time she'd give you a goddamn masterpiece_. Because that was what she did, and she tended to do it with more consistency than anyone else, and in some pretty bad places; her name was known far beyond her limited circle of friends and associates because of it.

"I know. I just wish I had the time to prepare them better for whatever were going to be doing with this prototype stealth vessel," she said, her tone changing from serious to somewhat playful. She raised her eyebrows at him. "Speaking of which?"

"No. Nothing has come through yet. Command is following the Council's lead right now," he responded, leaning against the wall so she couldn't read the half-truth in his eyes. The Alliance brass did have them in a holding pattern, but only because they were waiting for word that the device was ready for pick up. The excavation was not going as well as planned, so what was supposed to happen three days prior, was still close to a week out.


	4. 04 Shakedown

**Summary:** The Normandy's shakedown takes a turn for the unexpected, at least for Shepard and the crew, until she learns that that she was not on the list of those with need to know about the purpose and mission of the _Normandy. _When the mission takes a surprising turn, she, Alenko, and Jenkins must prepare quickly for a situation they know little about.

**A/N:** This is a new series I'm working on that will span all three games, so strap in for the long haul. I thoroughly enjoy delving into the characters, both mine and the game's, so you'll get to know people in a new and interesting light. You will probably see some little traces of headcanon here and there, though major ones I'll try to point out. I hope you will enjoy this piece and please, read and review, I would really like to know if you liked this story or not, or any thoughts you'd like to share with me!

**Acknowledgements:** I want to throw many kudos and flowers at the feet of my beta readers-xforeverquotex and my paramour. You guys are amazing and I appreciate your time and assistance with this piece.

_Disclaimer:_ Mass Effect belongs to Bioware, I'm only playing with their universe. I do not own the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. I do it for the love of the game, the world, and the characters; and because they stuck with me long after I turned the game off (and back on, and off, ad infinitum).

* * *

**FWN: 04 The Shakedown**

**i.**

* * *

The _Normandy's_ turian guest had most people's hackles up. He was dogged and deliberate, and that was putting it delicately. Most of the time he reminded Commander Shepard a lot of Captain Braxus, the turian team leader she'd served under during a training exchange with a turian SpecOps unit. Then there were other times when Nihlus reminded her of the comparatively affable Hierarchy liaison she considered her friend, Marric Toran. The Spectre didn't seem uncomfortable around the human crew, though Shepard was certain that he was more than aware of the discomfort they felt in his presence.

The concern over the turian's presence on the ship surprised Shepard a little. She knew that for most many there was no love lost between turians and humans since the First Contact War. There were some on both sides that still distrusted one another and a lot of bad blood existed between the militaries of both species. Despite multiple attempts by factions in the Alliance and the Hierarchy to alleviate some of the distrust and incorrect assumption, animosity still existed. The training exercises and exchanges that had been happening for years were slowly changing the experiences and opinions of some soldiers, but not all, older soldiers who had actually served during the three-month long the Relay 314 Incident, as the turians called it, still held tight to old opinions and grudges.

Adding to the effect he had on the crew was myth and legend that seemed to surround Council Spectres. For humans Spectre operatives were relatively unknown, most humans knew only what was portrayed in the popular media. One common point of knowledge humanity had learned about this group, was something most of the galaxy had known for centuries-Spectres were agents with relatively free reign to maintain galactic stability. But humanity's experience with these agents was limited to the highly romanticized characterizations from fiction and media. And those representations seemed to latch onto the caveat which qualified their authority: by any means necessary. The Council gave their operatives complete operational discretion, according to all the tales, and many species saw them as above and beyond the law.

The crew's reactions to Nihlus Kryik ranged across a vast spectrum, from the xenophobic to the romantic. Pressly was concerned about the fact he was turian, a sentiment Shepard was certain that others might share. After the First Contact War, a lot of humans still held concerns about turians, but in her own experience those concerns and opinions went both ways and like most opinions of that kind were based on a lack of experience or information. On the other side of the coin, Jenkins was enamored with the idea of Nihlus-his jurisdiction and prowess as a Spectre. Shepard wasn't sure which one concerned her more, neither seemed particularly productive.

Nihlus himself just silently skulked around the decks usually observing the activity aboard the ship silently. Shepard hadn't developed an opinion about the alien, but then typically she based her perceptions on people based on their performance. Since she hadn't seen him in action, there wasn't much to go on. What she had seen of him made him seem a decent sort, if not a little detached. But one trait that was all his own was that Nihlus Kyrik seemed to be everywhere, except when someone was looking for him. She'd caught sight of him one afternoon when she was running hand-to-hand drills with Corporal Niveda, one of the soldiers in her detail. He'd been hovering in Engineering when Shepard stopped in to talk to Adams regarding a report about an inconsistency in shield outputs. When she and Alenko had their little showdown, he'd skulked near the door with the captain. Every time she turned around she ran into him it seemed, even one morning when he'd been helpful enough to fill her empty coffee mug for the first time that day.

"Appreciated, sir."

"You're welcome, Commander," he'd replied with the same calculating look he always wore.

She'd walked away from the encounter shaking her head, wondering how the hell to get a read on the guy; turians certainly didn't have the same tells as humans, though there were some vocal inflections that seemed to cross species well enough. Hell, she'd known Marric for years before she knew for certain when he was smiling and that was only because she could hear it in his voice. But that wasn't usually the case with Kryik.

**ii.**

* * *

It irritated the helmsman when people loomed. He liked having the helm to himself most of the time. He put up with the techs and Pressly's occasional appearance. The only person qualified for the position that continued to actually co-pilot during Joker's extended shifts at the helm, was Alenko, whom Moreau had known for years. The others in the crew that held that designator annoyed him, so he'd convinced them he was grouchy and cantankerous then offered them an out. Joker was not a people person in the largest sense, but he was personable enough when he wanted or had to be. But people hovering in his space was something he didn't abide. Looming drove him toward the edge or sanity and made him testy. He especially did not care for Nihlus' brand of looming.

The Spectre would just stand there all mysterious and judgey-arms crossed, leaning back just so, to give that air of turian superiority while retaining the stick up his ass. _I could out fly you and your avian buddies any day_, he found himself thinking more than once. As the turian stood there, silently observing again, Moreau tried to distract himself. _Why the hell are _you_ standing up here being all menacing? Aren't there some other crewmen you can harass? No one else hassles me up here_, he ranted silently.

Anderson loomed from time to time, but he was mainly trying to go unnoticed for a few minutes on a ship too small to really get good lost on. Alenko never loomed, that would be unproductive-_he really needs to loosen up a little_. Surprisingly, Moreau didn't mind when Shepard loomed, though half the time he wasn't aware of it until he said something stupid. But then what she did, really wouldn't qualify as looming; she just sort of appeared and was there, except when she wasn't. _Wonder how many times she's been there and gone without me knowing at all? _The thought did not comfort him in the least. _Someone really needs to get the XO some damn footsteps_.

Flight Lieutenant Jeff Moreau liked Shepard better than most of the line officers he'd met in his career, but part of that he knew was precisely because she wasn't really a line officer. Shepard came to the line after a long career as just another grunt, one of the guys. She was a worker bee, like him, but had the stripes and the clout that made people look at her differently, as more.

When he found out she was the Executive Officer of the _Normandy_, he'd made a few calls to people he had worked with, trained with, or grown up with. The thing that shocked him most was they were all willing to talk, but most striking was that no one he talked to knew her personally. They'd seen her, heard lower deck rumors, maybe even piloted her teams to and from whatever planet or moon they were working on at the time. Even the few SpecOps guys he knew didn't really _know_ her.

After a few weeks around her he realized why. Anyone who actually knew Shepard wouldn't be so quick to trade stock in rumors or gossip about her. The commander didn't so much command respect and loyalty, she earned them. She didn't see herself as deserving anything that she didn't work for. It didn't take long for Joker to warm up to her, and Shepard had made that pretty easy. Early on he'd had a few stupid slips, but she never dressed him down for it. Mostly she just joined in, easily laughing at herself and the impressions people had of her. He had even noticed that on occasion she would walk a little louder so that he would know she was coming, though that was rare.

When his chair bucked he looked up, and she was standing next to him proffering a cup of coffee. He took it without realizing that his surprise was registered on his face.

"That little purple-haired yeoman, Michaels, I think. I really need to learn her name. … Anyway she swears you're a cream and sugar guy. Hope she's right," Shepard said as she slipped into the empty co-pilot's seat. "I'm commandeering this station because I need more console space."

"Uh… okay." He tried the coffee and tried not to smile. _Goddamn, she even got that right_. "Why are you doing that up here?"

She shrugged noncommittally. "Why not?"

Moreau didn't buy it. "I mean the CIC has some nice console space, plus that massive display."

Shepard looked over at him and blinked a few times. "I creep them out."

He choked slightly as he inhaled some of his coffee. "Who?"

"The bridge crew." She looked back over her shoulder eying them. "They look at me like they think I'll eat them. Or gut them on the galaxy map."

"Yeah. But I'm sure it would take some major screw up to push you that far."

Another shrug. "As long as they don't mess with the coffee or my pistols they'll be fine," she said lightly as she pulled up a few reports on the console.

"Whatever. You're not as scary as you think you are."

The chuckle was light. "I'm not scary at all. I'm all sweetness and light," she intoned.

Joker looked at her incredulously. "And full of shit."

Her laugh was bright and usually betrayed her true nature. Joker liked hearing her laugh, and no one who heard the sound could resist at least smiling in response. He left her to her reports, as requirements of his own position cropped up. And the two just sat there enjoying the best view on the _Normandy_ as they ground through sleep-inducing reports and read outs until the coffee ran out.

"You, Commander, are in my chair," Alenko noted when he reached the cockpit.

"Yes, I am Staff Lieutenant. Joker was scared of being up her all alone. He has some irrational fear that one of the marine detail is going to flay the flesh of his bones and turn him into stock."

"Have you seen some of the grub that comes out of the mess. I wouldn't put it past them," Joker agreed as she slipped out of the chair.

She stood behind his chair as Alenko took up the spot she'd relinquished. With a glance at his friend Joker noticed the unfocused stare and slight frown, after Alenko had himself settled the pilot noticed the other man rub his right hand over the top of his thigh too often.

"I'll leave you gentlemen to it, then. Pressly's probably looking for me, or will be soon," she stated as she walked up the deck silently.

"What's with you?" Joker muttered narrowing his eyes on the lieutenant.

"What?" Kaidan replied as if the pilot had interrupted his train of thought. "Sorry. I wasn't paying attention."

"Yeah. I got that." Jeff stared at him for a few moments before Alenko looked away, seemingly calmer since Shepard had left. _Since Shepard left. Holy hell_. "She still throws you off?"

The quick turn of Alenko's head and the sharpness of his glare was all the answer Moreau needed.

"Shit. She does, doesn't she?" Joker looked back at his console. "You know if she didn't lay you out when you punched her, she's not going to. You can stop worrying about it."

"It's not that. It's … not anything," the staff lieutenant said weakly. "Just let it go."

Joker glanced at him without turning his face from the console. "Whatever you say, man." Something had his friend riled, but Joker knew Kaidan. The biotic never just put anything out there. Hell, sometimes even if he wanted you to know something, you had to pry it out of the man.

Kaidan was a good officer, but Joker always thought he was too hard on himself. Pushing yourself is one thing, even Jeff was guilty of that. But Alenko didn't just push, he rode himself harder than any drill instructor might. Joker could also tell when it was happening some of the time, and this was one of those times-Alenko wasn't seeing the consoles in front of him at the moment, his mind was somewhere else. _Probably lecturing himself about some perceived misstep or infraction that no one else could ever see or recognize._

"Hey! Have you got those new calibrations for the refractors?" Joker felt a little bad, but he knew the distraction would pull Kaidan out of whatever little self-reflection he was in.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I finished them this morning," the biotic replied quickly pulling them up and transferring the file over to the pilot for review.

As they discussed the document, Jeff knew the distraction had worked but there was no telling if it was temporary or not. Once he got his friend's mind on something else, Joker let his mind wander back to what seemed the impetus for Kaidan's disconnection in the first place. By his own admission, the lieutenant worked well with Shepard, respected her. Hell, he'd seen the security footage from the sparring match, Alenko had read her better in that fight than any of the detail had in hand to hand. She had controlled the entire thing, up until the punch, but the lieutenant had held his own and kept up with her mostly. Additionally, the commander seemed to appreciate Alenko's efforts and held a high opinion of the staff lieutenant. _Why does she still throw him off?_

**iii.**

* * *

One afternoon, she'd spent two hours watching over her crew's PT just because there was nothing else pressing. Alenko was taking a turn as head torture master, while Shepard leaned against the Mako sipping her second cup of coffee. He pushed the team through a grueling agility training exercise, when the shadow drew her gaze.

"Nihlus," she said not needing to look to confirm the identity.

"Shepard," he greeted as he took up a position beside her, though he did not lean. "Your unit has surprising cohesion for one with no field experience together. You seem quite skilled at uniting people and encouraging unit coordination."

"Thank you," she replied. "I'm sure my methods are soft compared to yours."

"Incredibly likely. But they still seem adequately successful."

She knew it to be a compliment and opted to ignore both the comment which could be perceived as a slight and the insinuation that human training methods were lacking. She knew first hand they weren't terribly different from turian physical training regimens. The commander glanced over again and he was looking at her. He was standing, practically at attention, or it would have been attention if he was a human. _That might just be how all turians stand_, she thought, remembering her time with Braxus' unit.

"How much experience have you had with other species?" he asked still studying her.

She stood and faced him, craning her neck to look him in the eyes he had a little over a foot-and-a-half on her in height. "Enough. I know where to aim for maximum results," she replied coolly, resisting the urge to tap her temple for emphasis, though that wasn't the optimal site for taking down a krogan. "I've spent time with a turian unit, worked with the asari, and with salarian operations once. My training with them all was quite enlightening."

He laughed, it was a creepier and a more disconcerting sound than she'd expected. "Any hand-to-hand contact with Braxus's team?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him and how well informed he was. "The brass wouldn't allow it," she disclosed, sidestepping the question. He narrowed his eyes at her and she smiled slightly. _Already knew the answer to that one I see_. "I've done a few melee take downs, but I know the limits of my skill. I try to keep them at more than arm's length if I can. I don't think I'll be throwing punches with any krogan or turians, by choice."

He nodded, and set his claws against his chin for a moment. "I wouldn't bet on you against a krogan. But I think you could hold your own against a turian."

Her breath hitched in her throat. _Did he just challenge me? Surely not._

He was nodding at her.

_Son of bitch, he did. _"What gives you that impression?" she asked, swallowing her surprise.

"In watching your team's training, I've assessed your abilities. You are very fluid. Stronger than I expected, which paired with your speed and flexibility could prove lethal. You adhere to your own style while reading and adapting to your opponent. Yet I find that you are a little too reliant on brute force for a biotic of your skill and power. Your demonstration with the lieutenant showed that you are quite versatile in that arena, but from what I've read you don't rely on your biotics as much as one of your skill normally might, and probably should."

Shepard was surprised to hear that comment from a turian. In her experience they were a little conservative with biotics, even more so than humans. In fact, turians tended to corral their biotics in small units, keeping them separate from one another as well as from the other troops. Unintentionally, she'd betrayed a hint of surprise at the mention that he'd been observing the training of the marine detail; she'd noticed his observation a few times, but obviously not all of it.

"It is that reliance on martial prowess that will keep your opponent on their toes." He clasped his hands loosely in front of him. "In that way you are like a volus or a salarian, most would not expect one of your size and build to handle themselves quite so expertly in a physical confrontation. You have surprising range. Marksman. Biotic with striking power and versatility, though you do not depend on it. Extensive melee training. And your knife skills are quite impressive, from what I've read and heard. Very wise move—diversifying, not depending on any one ability."

"The consideration is appreciated," she said carefully. "But I'll be honest the idea of hand-to-hand combat, or even knife combat, with a turian is not a comforting thought."

Nihlus nodded. "It really is a matter of knowing where to strike and making adjustments for your opponent's increased reach. But you seem to have no problem accommodating for your…" His eyes moved up and down her frame once before decided how to word it. "Build."

Shepard chuckled at the care and precision he had taken in an effort not to offend her.

"You held your own against your male counterparts here in exercises."

She stared at him with rapt attention, ignoring the comment on her height because it wasn't meant merely a neutral observation.

"With an unarmored target, you will want to strike the side of the mid-torso." He gestured to the side of his torso where it seemed to slim toward his thin waist. She nodded involuntarily as she watched the hand's movement carefully. "In armor, however, your striking points are much more limited. In that respect, you would strike just as you would a human."

"Go for the jugular," she muttered, thinking out loud.

"Well that region, yes." He lifted his head to the side and she noticed a long thin scar that ran under his left mandible. His finger moved past it. "Softest point is here-for a knife strike but you have very little leeway, about a half-an-inch, either way, and you can still get the job done. Otherwise you'll just hit bone, very sturdy bone." Then his hand moved a down, toward the outside of his neck, and a few inches below his mandible. "But a quick strike here can stun. It won't give you much time, just a few seconds at most to try and gain your advantage."

"Sometimes a few seconds is all you need," she responded rather more menacingly than she intended.

"Precisely, Commander." The timbre of his voice matched hers ominously.

She couldn't help the wicked smirk she felt play across her lips before she realized she was on her tiptoes still staring at the turian's jaw studying the obvious skin-like texture of his neck. Turian skin was thicker than that of humans but it was only found on the 'softer' parts of the body. Their plates weren't like those of krogan which were thick _and_ protective. Turian plates were just like thicker calloused patches of leathery skin, they protected from the atmosphere of their homeworld, but not much else. Regardless, Shepard had learned enough to know that with this avian-like species preparation and distance were just as key as with krogans. One advantage in fighting a turian over a krogan, turians tended not to charge their enemies in random and unpredictable bouts of rage. But if you were smart and careful you could out think a turian, or get him to out think himself.

"Bare-handed, you likely would not kill a turian. If you draw your blade"-he glanced at her boot-"be sure to put more behind the thrust. As with most other species, you'll want to stab not slice."

"Good to know," she said then looked up at him curiously. "What's with the turian anatomy lesson?"

"Spectre. Commander. Captain Anderson needs to see you two in his quarters, a-sap," the pilot's voice rang through the cargo area.

She grimaced wanting to continue her conversation with the Spectre. "On my way," they replied in unison.

She looked at him with a quick nod, "Appreciate the lesson."

"We can talk krogan another day," he promised with a light playfulness in his tone, or at least that was how she heard it, as they crossed to the elevator at a jog.

Shepard nodded. "That's a lesson I'd definitely hate to miss. Got my bell rung by one a few years back. Learned to keep my distance from them."

"Smart choice. That's my preference as well."

The commander grinned.

Much to Shepard's displeasure the lesson on krogan anatomy would have to wait. As they exited onto the crew deck, they ran into Anderson who gave her a quick look when the pair stepped off the elevator together. He had been rushing down the stairs from the CIC, and tossed a datapad to her.

"Read fast," he told her as he and Nihlus headed into his quarters.

They hadn't had time for a ground drop since they left Arcturus, but she had assumed that might come after the ship had put in some flight time. After all, they'd just barely driven the _Normandy_ off the lot; they were still ironing out some of the kinks. Shepard stalked over to the area of the ship she had pretty much claimed as her unofficial office, and hideout. The observation deck was one of the quietest places on the ship and almost no one bothered her there. _Almost_. A few people had learned that when she wasn't on deck or in the gym, they could find her in what a lot of the crew termed the Obs.

The file was the kind she hated-just the bare minimum of information. Destination: Eden Prime. Mission: Priority Recovery. There was a short section on the planet and its settlements. But there was almost no information she would need to form an adequate plan, or any type of plan. No mention of possible resistance, no mention of friendly military assets or their place in her assignment. Even the actuation target location was missing, as was any description or hint of what they were after. For all she knew this was a scavenger hunt for a micro-chipped pyjak. The lack of information in the briefing just frustrated her.

She had laid down the datapad and was about to open her omnitool to do a little research of her own when a chime preceded the voice that lit it up. "Commander, we're about to hit the relay," Joker stated.

"Thank you Lieutenant." She'd previously dropped a quick message to Moreau asking him to let her know when they were headed out.

She closed out the datapad with the little bit of information she'd been given and hurried up to the bridge. The turian Spectre had beat her there and was watching the approach, standing behind the pilot as stoically as ever. Shepard nodded at him slightly as she stopped at his side. She just stared out at the deep, the relay glowing in the distance as if beckoning them to the promise of something new, something undiscovered, something beyond what they currently knew, or at least that was how Shepard viewed jumps, still. She knew her notions about space tended toward the romantic, but even after years of jumps and spending her entire life in space, she was still drawn to it all-soothed by the stars, lulled by the faint vibrations of the engines, and excited by the possibilities and the dangers inherent in any relay jump.

Joker's voice filled the ship as he detailed the event for the crew-the first jumps were always nerve wracking on a new ship. The feeling still got to her-the lurch in her gut, a sudden rush followed by another flip of the stomach before everything righted again. It was less noticeable when one was standing still, which was why the jumps were always announced. When you were moving the effect was profound, light years in a step. She'd seen people pass out from the difference in the sensation. Living and working on a ship one learned quickly if you are among the crewmen that you need to stand still. Shepard was a little odd. She liked the difference in the sensation between standing and moving: the twinge of lightheadedness, the blur or flash in your field of vision, and the adrenaline rush that always seemed to accompany it for her.

After the jump, Joker detailed the results for the ship's log, and Nihlus acknowledged his successful performance. Shepard nodded at the turian again as he turned and walked aft. The pilot was not impressed. The commander just stood back and listened as the two lieutenants discussed the Spectre, his careful praise, and the pilot's speculations about his presence. In the few weeks since they left port, both seemed to have adjusted to the XO, mostly, as had most of the ship.

Anderson had told her that she'd fit in rather easily and that the crew would warm up to her. Initially, she'd felt a little like a circus freak; crewmen staring at her, seeing her as an 'outsider'rather than as one of them. As much as she hated to admit it, there was a part of her that was fairly certain that some of the shift was due to the fact that the staff lieutenant had gotten the drop on her. It made the crew realize she was human-even the pilot and her squad mate.

"Having a Spectre on board is trouble. Call me paranoid," Joker opined.

"You're paranoid," Alenko replied.

The commander couldn't help but chuckle at the lieutenants. Joker was being overly suspicious, but Shepard agreed with him on some level. _There was no way that _this_ ship, with a Spectre aboard was just cruising to Eden Prime to check out the sights. Her mission brief had been a joke. Ground-side reconnaissance on a well-established colony with priority on removal of some undisclosed object. That was not an assignment the brass would send her on typically. Unless said object was actually an asset in some sort of danger, but even then the language in the briefing would have delineated the target as human._ She knew it how it sounded. Even in her own head it sounded egotistical. But it was still the truth.

In a conversation after they put out, Navigator Pressly had confided that he felt something was a bit askew. "You don't send soldiers like that on do-nothing missions," he'd said about Captain Anderson. She knew he was right, of course, but Shepard fell into the same category. Command didn't send her anywhere just to take a look around and pick up some politician's new tea set.

There was something more going on. Shepard had been around the block. She knew her job and there was something off, she could feel it in her marrow. What got to her more than that knowledge was the fact that she knew her CO was holding out on her; her friend was letting her twist in the wind. But deep down Shepard knew it wasn't by choice. _N__eed-to-know can be a bitch, _and if Anderson hadn't brought her into the fold yet then it meant she was still outside that line by the orders of someone higher up the food chain.

"Tell Shepard to meet me in the Comms," Anderson barked at the pilot.

"You get that, Commander?" Joker asked merely out of protocol. They both knew she'd heard it.

"Yeah, I got it. Try to keep his paranoia in check," she suggested to Alenko, gesturing at the pilot.

"I think that might be a lost cause, Commander," the biotic replied, grinning at his friend who was eying him.

"True, but give it a go."

"I'll see what I can do about it, Shepard."

Strutting up the bridge, Shepard couldn't help but hope that they were close enough to the objective that she could finally get a full briefing.

**iv.**

* * *

Nihlus Kryik aimed for intimidating and rarely wavered from it. When the commander stepped into the Communications Room, he was standing before the vid screen eyeing an image of a fairly idyllic-looking planet. The rolling green hills suggested a peaceful and serene locale, but seeing the outline of the stoic turian on the image inspired a pause. He turned slightly at the waist, glancing over his shoulder at her. _How am I not surprised?_

"Ah. Commander Shepard, I was hoping you would arrive first. It will give us a chance to talk," Nihlus told the image.

Their conversation began like most of the one's she'd had with the turian, a seemingly random question that was meant to lead to a specific place. When he turned and faced her, feet shoulders' width apart and hands clasped behind his back, which was ramrod straight, Shepard mirrored his stance. The scrutinizing gaze was back and his bright eyes moved over her in the same calculating way they had the first time they'd met. This too she copied, again. According to her friend Marric Toran, it was the correct response to this type of confrontation. Even if she hadn't known that for certain, her response would have been the same.

Despite moments of cordiality with the Spectre, Shepard wouldn't even really call him an acquaintance, though she thought the title Spectre apt, since he tended to haunt the ship and her-materializing at will, spooking people, then fading back into the shadows.

"About?" she asked finally.

"Eden Prime. What can you tell me about it?"

Shepard felt lucky that Jenkins talked a lot, when he was nervous, or bored, or awake. She knew more about the planet because of it, since the briefing had been blank and her own research cut short. Besides what the corporal divulged, she knew the bare minimum she needed to get through her galactic geography class in school. The garden world was one of the earliest human colonies, peaceful, serene. She'd never been there or been sent there before now.

"It's kind of a symbol for your people, isn't it? Proof that humanity can establish colonies across the galaxy, but also protect them. But how safe is it really?"

Adept at reading between the lines, Shepard's eyes narrowed. She knew it wasn't a threat, nor was the statement innocuous. And it wasn't about Eden Prime. This was about something larger and that realization made Shepard consider her reply carefully. She finally opted for a silent stare. He didn't really want or need an answer, she knew.

"You're people are still newcomers Shepard. The galaxy can be a very dangerous place. Is the Alliance truly ready for this?

_And here it is_, Shepard thought,_ the more that had Joker paranoid and Pressly on edge_. She wasn't sure precisely what it was, but the revelation was momentarily interrupted by the captain's arrival. She'd had been given the previous few weeks to acclimate to the new assignment. The _Normandy_ had been dashing about checking and triple checking all the systems, which she could feel were about to be put to a real test finally.

Nihlus' approach from the moment she walked in the room had set Shepard in a defensive position, prepared her for some substantial revelation. But there was nothing she could have done to prepare for what came next.

The statements seemed to swirl into a choking mist that clogged her brain. "Time to tell her what's really going on." "More than a simple shakedown run." "Comes down from the top." "This is big." "Beyond mere human interests." "Humans don't have the best reputation." "Not the only reason I'm here." "Wants to see you in action." "Evaluate you." "Accept a human into their ranks." "I put your name forward as a candidate for the Spectres." "Need to see your skills for myself."

The revelations about the mission she had expected, not the content, but the fact that information would be forthcoming. What totally caught her off guard was the reason for Kryik's presence. This news cast the reassignment in a whole new light, but she still felt like she had been charged by a krogan at first; her chest tightened and her nerves tingled almost to the point that they were burning. She kept her hands tightly clasped behind her back, tensing the muscles in her arms trying to exercise as much control as she could muster, despite it she still struggled against the familiar tingling sensation in her fingertips. The commander was certain that her surprise was obvious by the candor of her questions. He responded to her frankness with more of the same.

"It's rare to find individuals with the skills we seek. I don't care that you're human, Shepard. I only care that you can do the job," Nihlus replied to her question about his recommendation of a human. He loomed over her for a moment. "I've been watching you and your work for quite some time."

Anderson went farther, assuring her that this course was something the Alliance supported fully. Shepard knew why he said it. The captain had probably overstepped because his statements made clear that she was being groomed, which was both flattering, but not at the same time. Being given orders and being reassigned and being sent on missions was one thing. Being told your entire career was becoming some type of political endeavor was wholly another. She felt like a human sacrifice in some ways, a specimen being offered up to the Council for the promise of tenuous future blessings from the alien gods in control of the galactic community.

Shepard had already gone through this with the Alliance after the Blitz; some of the parliament and the Alliance brass had wanted a poster girl, a hero they could plaster everywhere and point to as a symbol of humanity's strength and resolve. She'd shrank back from that and dashed their hopes in the one press interview they'd gotten her to agree to. Now it looked like the same thing was about to happen. The Alliance needed something and she fit the bill, but this wasn't like being sent to some pirate moon and clearing out a threat. To Shepard this was asking her to step outside of everything she knew, this felt like being asked to walk away from everything she was.

Anderson seemed to see it. "Hackett put your name up. I backed it. As did Zahakis." Shepard's eyes shot to his at the mention of the Commandant of the N-School, who had been her training officer. "Hell, no one who had any input expressed any doubt. And the Alliance needs this."

Her mind raced, but there didn't seem to be anything coherent in any of the thoughts. The commander had never considered this possibility; she didn't even know the job well enough to know if she wanted it. But in that brief moment it seemed like it was enough that the people she trusted wanted this for her, that the Alliance needed her to take this step. So she agreed, like they all knew she would. Because when push came to shove, Shepard was a dedicated soldier and one thing people always counted on from her was that she would do what needed to be done.

Joker's voice was a welcome reprieve from her thoughts and the weight that had been placed on her. "Transmission from Eden Prime. Captain, you need to see this."

The video served to push everything else to the back of her mind. In that moment there was no recommendation, there was no evaluation, and all the parts of her life listing off course disappeared. Shepard's focus was keenly turned to the attack, that ship hovering frozen on the screen, and getting the artifact out of the middle of whatever was happening on Eden Prime.

"Tell Alenko and Jenkins to suit up, Commander. You're going in," Anderson ordered still staring at the image of the strange vessel on the monitor.

"On it, Captain. See you down there, Nihlus," she said as she darted out of the room.

**v.**

* * *

Dr. Chakwas reminded Corporal Richard Jenkins of his grandmother, and not in the good way. She continued to lecture him about his romantic view of the situation on the ship long after the commander had slipped past them into the comm room. Chakwas was nice and all but he didn't understand what she was trying to accomplish. All he could do was think how wrong she was. _How can she ignore the fact that there were two highly decorated N7 officers and a well-respected turian Spectre on board?_ He knew there was something going on. _There just had to be._ The corporal merely hoped that he might get to play some kind of part in it. He had a little hope of it, despite his relative inexperience in the field, Shepard had told him he had potential.

Leaning against the wall, he partially listened to the doctor as she informed him that his notions were exaggerated and he should consider exploring some less fantastic sources for more realistic information about the officers and other individuals he worked with.

"Excuse me, Doctor," Shepard said too calmly.

Jenkins straightened when he felt the commander's hand on his arm. He could feel the expression of surprise on his face as he looked over at her, and immediately tried to contain it.

Her voice was low as she looked him in the eye. Jenkins was held spellbound in the cool seriousness of her gaze; he couldn't have looked away if he wanted to. Her tone was even and impassive as she said, "I need you to walk to the cockpit. _Walk_. Quietly tell Lieutenant Alenko to suit up and meet us in the cargo bay."

Jenkins nodded. "Yes, ma'am." It didn't hit him until he was halfway up the bridge. She'd said _us_. _Us. _He was going. His heart started pounding in his chest when the realization struck him. And he had to make a concentrated effort to walk to his destination.

When he delivered the message Alenko's eyes had widened slightly and he hopped out of the chair. "Walk," Jenkins said, repeating the word Shepard had stressed to the Corporal.

The lieutenant shot a look at the corporal.

"Shepard said to walk." Jenkins nodded at the officer and Alenko returned it.

Within minutes Richard was in the cargo bay, pulling the Lancer assault rifles out of the weapons locker and setting them on the nearby table. Shepard already had her sidearm, a banged up little Edge pistol that looked like it had seen more action than the corporal had. Lieutenant Alenko's pistol he noticed was a pristinely kept Kessler. He couldn't help but notice the similarity between the officers and their side arms, or so it seemed from his point of view -Shepard was battle-hardened and proven leader; Alenko was clean cut, by-the-book tech genius.

He grinned as he turned back to the locker. Jenkins didn't much like pistols and pulled out a Scimitar shotgun, placing it on the table. He hadn't anticipated Shepard to return from the locker with a Reaper. Jenkins guessed that fully extended the sniper rifle was almost as tall as she was, though he knew it to be an exaggeration, the only person who didn't seem surprised to see the weapon in the commander's hands was the Spectre. But then Nihlus didn't seem surprised by much and probably wasn't.

None of them spoke. They prepped their weapons as they waited. Within a few minutes Nihlus had joined them to wait for the drop. It was distracting. Jenkins watched them all. They each had their personal tastes in weapons and each had their own rituals. Alenko rechecked his pistol a dozen times while he ran some sort of program on his omnitool. Shepard had broken down and reassembled her weapons then leaned against the weapons locker twirling that blade people whispered about between her fingers. They said she always carried in her boot, even on the ship. Even Nihlus wasn't immune to superstition; once he'd cleared his shotgun, he'd held it delicately and whispered to it softly before holstering it.

Jenkins was keenly aware that he didn't have a ritual. He had cleared his weapons then stood there observing it all. But then surrounded by that group of soldiers, how could he really do anything else?

"Commander." The knife stilled instantly and her eyes shot to the corporal's. In fact, they all were looking at him. "What's the job?"

Shepard didn't answer immediately, but her eyes did move to the others before returning to Jenkins'. "Let's go with elaborate Easter egg hunt."

Jenkins smiled, while Alenko's brow knitted tightly.

"There's something down there the brass wants us to pick up," Shepard clarified after a glance at the lieutenant.

Jenkins looked over at Nihlus.

"Corporal," Shepard said, drawing the young marine's attention back to her. "It's a recovery mission. That's all you need to know right now. That's all you're cleared to know." The look in her eyes cleared up the state of things and the calmness in her voice served to remind him of his position.

With a nod he looked away and noticed the lieutenant was still staring at the commander with an intensity that suggested he was trying to achieve some level of psychic communication. Alenko didn't seem to take too well to the scant information she'd provided either. But both men knew it was all the explanation they were going to get.

When the captain came down, Shepard propped her foot on a crate and slipped the knife carefully into its sheathe. He couldn't help but wonder why she had that one when she also carried a standard issue blade strapped to her thigh as well. He shook it off and followed the others toward the bay doors that were opening slowly.

The wind whipped through the bay as the ship neared the first drop point. Nihlus was dropped first. And Jenkins couldn't help the satisfied grin that curved on his lips when the Spectre announced that he moved faster alone, and left on his own.

Shepard's eyes on him wiped the smile from Jenkins' lips as she assured the captain her team could handle their part of the mission just before they were offloaded south of Nihlus' drop point. For the corporal it quickly became clear that he wasn't chosen as part of the fire team for this mission just because he was from Eden Prime. Shepard relied on her nav points for locations. Though both officers directed occasional inquires in his direction and he freely offered up other information as it seemed useful, Richard genuinely felt that he was on the ground because he was supposed to be, because he was ready.

**vi.**

* * *

The ship they'd seen on the transmission was still hovering on the horizon when the fire team from the _Normandy _was dropped and Shepard couldn't place it. She'd never seen or even heard of anything like it-the scale was impressive and intimidating. It dwarfed most of the ships she was familiar with. But from their drop point she couldn't get a line of sight on it to get a better look. As a kid she'd built models of everything: planes and ships, fighters, cruisers, and frigates; human, turian, asari, salarian, anything she could get her hands on. Her father encouraged it because it gave the two of them something they could share together-there wasn't a lot in the way of entertainment on military vessels, at least not for children.

Their insertion point was quiet, and though they heard weapons fire in the distance, there seemed to be little or no fighting in their immediate area. The simple retrieval was now surrounded by too many questions for her tastes. Not that she ever expected a mission to be clear cut. But she didn't even know what she was dealing with on Eden Prime, outside of a mysterious Prothean beacon.

"Keep your eyes open people," she ordered as she flipped the safety off her Lancer and moved across the rocky little plateau toward the mountain pass smoothly at a pace akin to a jog.

None of them knew what to expect nor did they even know what to look for. The transmission had shown the vessel, and there was clearly an attack happening. But at no time in the transmission had she seen anyone who was not human, and all those in the feed had seemed to be Alliance. Hell, Shepard couldn't even guess if they would meet any resistance. But she leaned on the side of caution and ordered them to leap frog their way along the pass, two covering one as they moved toward the cliff side. Shepard held the point and scanned the perimeter, once satisfied that it was clear she ordered her squad to move up.

Alenko and Shepard waited as Jenkins moved toward his next cover position; the officers' eyes scanned for targets. She heard it before she saw anything. The shots seemed to come out of nowhere then Shepard saw the small culprits. Three small drones hovering in the distance. _What the hell is going on?_ She hadn't been looking skyward, she'd been expecting mercenaries: batarians, humans, maybe a few salarians, an asari or two-you're typical pirate crew. She turned her sights on them, but once they were down she realized it was too late. The mistake had been made, and the false assumption had proved fatal.

"Ripped right through his shields," Alenko said kneeling over the body, swiping a hand over the young man's face, closing Jenkins' eyes.

Shepard nodded as she looked down at the boy's face. _Fuck. This was precisely what I'd hoped to avoid_. Her jaw clinched involuntarily as she chastised herself. She should have seen them. Shepard shook her head, as the lieutenant stood. He looked a little guilty too, but she couldn't do anything for either of their consciences in that moment.

"We have to keep moving." Shepard glanced at her rifle then met his gaze again. "We'll come back for him. Never leave a man behind," she whispered the last sentiment to herself more than to Alenko, and she damn well intended to ensure it. She might have lost men before, but she'd never left anyone, and she was not about to start now.


	5. 05 Eden Primer

**Summary:** Nothing is what they expected on the garden world of Eden Prime. Finding first geth, then another turian Spectre, Shepard must lead a green fire team through heavy resistance to find the beacon they were sent for. Shepard, Alenko, and Ashley Williams must all overcome and adapt to situations they could not have expected to encounter on the ground of one of the first human colonies.

**A/N:** This is a new series I'm working on that will span all three games, so strap in for the long haul. I thoroughly enjoy delving into the characters, both mine and the game's, so you'll get to know people in a new and interesting light. You will probably see some little traces of headcanon here and there, though major ones I'll try to point out. I hope you will enjoy this piece and please, read and review, I would really like to know if you liked this story or not, or any thoughts you'd like to share with me!

**Acknowledgements:** I want to throw many kudos and flowers at the feet of my beta readers-xforeverquotex and my paramour. You guys are amazing and I appreciate your time and assistance with this piece.

_Disclaimer:_ Mass Effect belongs to Bioware, I'm only playing with their universe. I do not own the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. I do it for the love of the game, the world, and the characters; and because they stuck with me long after I turned the game off (and back on, and off, ad infinitum).

* * *

**FWN: 05 Eden Primer**

**i.**

* * *

A pair of marines moved along the quiet ridge overlooking one of Eden Prime's smaller settlements. The light gray pillars whispered of civilization among the pristine landscape that was offset by the ominous reddening sky. If not for the smell of smoke and death, this planet could have been an idyllic setting for a relaxing stroll through these mountains. This garden planet was one of the first four colonies Earth had established. The Spectre was right: it was meant to be an example of human ingenuity and accomplishment.

Whoever was responsible for the destruction had just cut through the defenses and landed too easily, sweeping through the colony's meager defenses. Shepard was certain given their location, far from the major cities, that it was likely this was a softer target. But even given that, the attackers should not have been able to reach the surface so easily. She just wished they knew more, All they had to go on was the fact that the technology was highly advanced, or so she guessed from how easily the drones had cut through the corporal's shields, and those little bots were dangerous as hell. _But a__t least we have a slightly better idea of what they we're up against_, she thought for a second then reconsidered_. Though not really, but it's something to watch for, at least._

The two stopped near the debris of the first drone and Shepard covered Alenko as he scanned the devices.

"Anything?" she asked without looking at him, her eyes scanned the horizon. She damn sure wasn't planning to lose anyone else on that rock.

"Not sure. I've never seen anything like it," he said, picking up a section of the device and looking it over. "It almost looks like…" He paused mulling over something that had come to him. "No. I couldn't be." He shook his head.

"Couldn't be what?"

"Nothing," he replied, second guessing himself.

She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Let's keep moving." He moved to her side, weapon at the ready, waiting for her to move. "I've got your back."

Shepard wanted to know what he was thinking, given that the scans hadn't offered up anything they could use. But she guessed he didn't want to put out a hypothesis without more data. She'd have to try to break him of that trait of the engineer's mentality. In this particular situation a hunch was more useful than the nothing she was currently working off of. Though she wanted to, there wasn't enough time to push him to give up his opinion, so she took point and led them toward the navpoint for the pickup location. They came across more drones on the way, but this time they were prepared for both the hacked Allinace defense drones and the other little grayish ones.

At the mouth of the trench they caught sight of the movement followed by weapons fire fast approaching their position. The commander rolled into cover and Alenko pressed against the tree he'd been tucked behind. They each peeked over and around their cover and caught sight of a soldier running full out with a trio of the same drones that dropped Jenkins hot on her six. When the soldier tripped Shepard tensed, but the downed woman didn't miss a beat. Three shots each and the sleek drones dropped out of the sky.

_Nicely done_, the commander nodded as the flying platforms crashed into the dirt.

Like the soldier, Shepard's attention was pulled elsewhere by a sharp scream. A pair of synthetics were dragging a man across the trench by his wrists. When they lifted him and held him awkwardly atop what looked like a massive tripod, he started muttering something, presumably begging for his life or maybe praying to his god of choice. It was clear that he was not going to get through this, not an unarmed civilian being manhandled by two machines. Shepard heard the gasp when the spike launched through his body, but didn't register it as her own until she realized she was holding her breath.

The synthetic turned toward a different sound-the other woman on the field scrambling out of the line of fire. The two machines crept carefully in the white-clad soldier's direction. The commander didn't know if they'd seen the other female yet or not, but when they raised their weapons Shepard knew she had to do something, anything. _I am not going to watch this again_. Nyx's instinct took over, along with the promise she'd made to herself-she was not going to lose another soldier on Eden Prime, any soldier, if it was in her power to stop it. She knew she couldn't have saved the civilian, but those damn synthetics were not taking that marine.

"Follow my lead, Lieutenant," Shepard ordered calmly as she traded the rifle for her pistol. She'd done this before and knew just how long she had before her barrier and shield would fall, but it was still a risk.

**ii.**

* * *

Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams pressed her head against the rock. _What the hell is going on? _It was a question that had been repeating though her brain since the massive ship cut through the morning fog. Then the synthetics appeared. Then all hell broke loose. She was still playing catch up even as she leaned out of cover and laid down a few bursts at the geth moving toward her.

The high-pitched whining of the geth weapons was a stark contrast to the more familiar sound of Alliance standard issue weapons, which was what drew her attention from her attackers. The movement was fluid and striking and Williams could do nothing but watch in relief as another soldier, a human, rolled out of cover. The shimmering blue sheathe seemed to pop with the movement of her left hand as she fired her pistol freely with her right.

As the barrier rippled, Williams knew the attention had been drawn away from her and she turned back to the machines as more gunfire joined the mix from behind her. Williams winced at the bright crackling sound that jumped between the two geth as the third soldier moved toward her position. Once the area was clear, Ashley couldn't help but smile and breathe deeply in relief. It was the first moment she'd had to just to stop and breathe in hours, but it didn't last long.

The introductions and pleasantries were over quickly. The woman who'd drawn off the synthetics wanted information, but Williams didn't have much to offer. She did know that one of her squad's officers had called these things geth, which seemed to make sense to this lieutenant. But then the Lieutenant Commander, Shepard, asked about the chief's unit. Ashley tried to steel her nerves, but her throat still stung. "My unit's gone. All of them. Ambush at the dig site, just up the trench."

The blue eyes were not quite so sharp now as Williams looked at the officer who'd just saved her ass. What she saw there was sympathy, understanding, as she said,. "We've all lost people on this rock."

"Yes, ma'am."

"All right, Chief. You feel up for a little payback?"

"Oorah, ma'am," Williams replied, checking the safety on her weapon.

The trace of a grin on Shepard's lips didn't go unnoticed by either of the other marines. Williams knew the name, and couldn't help but wonder if it was the same person. From the stories she'd heard, Ashley couldn't be sure. Though used to walking point, the chief fell in on the commander's left taking the officer's lead as they moved into the area where the beacon had been.

The lieutenant must have noticed her studying the commander, because when the radio message pulled Shepard's attention for a moment, he leaned toward the chief and confirmed what she'd been thinking. "Yeah. It's _that_ Shepard."

"I didn't …," she protested.

"We all did," he assured with a little trace of a grin.

"Nihlus is pushing ahead. Move out!" Shepard called before she jogged up the path to the ridge where the research camp was located.

When they reached the top of the ridge it was all Williams could do to keep her visceral response under control. The geth had hit the camp hard. The smell of charred flesh drew the pallor from her skin and she suddenly felt clammy as sweat slicked her entire body. She swallowed back the anger and nausea as she walked a few feet behind and to the left of the commander. The smoke threatened to choke her, but Ashley held her breath for a moment to calm herself, knowing that if she started coughing there would be no way she could keep herself from throwing up. And that was not the kind of impression she wanted to make on Commander Shepard.

Williams had seen those spikes all over the place, but no one in her squad had known what they were for or understood why the geth were setting them up everywhere until they reached the top of the hill. The spikes slid down with a gracefully metallic scrape and three of those creatures stumbled toward them mindlessly. Then they'd projected an electric snap that popped her shields. "Holy hell," Williams replied, dropping back and firing at least a dozen rounds into one until it dropped. "What are those things?"

"They were probably scientists," Shepard replied as moved toward one. "Get scans and readings off them, Alenko. I want to know what the hell these things did to them." She moved respectfully between the bodies, seemingly conscious of the fact that they had once been human, though clearly they weren't now.

While the commander studied the spikes, Ashley lost her thoughts for a moment in the glowing cracks in the burnt husk of remaining flesh on the bodies. Whatever these creatures were now, they were clearly human once-just like her not long before, the remnants of humanity etched upon their bodies, and the thought was intensely disturbing. Alenko's suggestion that the spikes were psychological warfare was way more accurate than either Shepard or Ashley wanted to think too hard about at that moment.

"They're turning their own dead against us," Kaidan muttered without disguising his disgust, as he inspected the lifeless corpse of one of the altered colonists.

"_Normandy_, are you seeing this?" Shepard asked on a separate channel. "What the hell is going on here?"

"This is the first I've seen of anything like this Commander," Anderson answered, concern obvious in his voice. "I've burst some images to Command to see what they've got."

It wasn't his voice she had been expecting. Shepard was hoping it would be someone she could chastise for the lack of intel. "We need to find someone that can tell us something. These things came out of Quarian space didn't they? Shouldn't the Council races have some kind of intel. Hell, we are working with a Spectre here. Someone has to know something."

"They are called Dragon's Teeth, Commander," Nihlus replied icily. "The intelligence on them is highly limited, we only learned of their existence very recently. The salarians' tests hadn't given us anything useful, and we weren't sure what they were being used for… until now."

Williams had been watching the squad leader and saw her wince then bite her lip. The chief could sympathize; she still couldn't wrap her head around it. _This is all completely insane. Synthetics tearing through a human colony and turning people into… who the hell knows what. _She could see no rhyme or reason for it. Eden Prime was mostly agricultural. There wasn't a lot of industry, nor was the military presence significant. This planet was not a high value target, it was not the type of planet that warranted this type of invasion.

**iii.**

* * *

"Alenko," Shepard said with a nod toward the obviously locked door of the shed. He made quick work of it, and when the panel glowed green she was at his right shoulder, pistol in hand. On the three-count they slipped through the door covering the entire room before while Williams had the flank.

The remaining scientists were little help. "We'll lock you back in," the commander told the pair before she trotted down the ramp. "What the hell is going on?"

"I don't think we can put much stock into anything the doctor there said," Alenko opined.

"That's an understatement," Williams scoffed.

"We good?" Shepard asked Alenko, who was finishing up with the door. When he nodded, the blonde turned to the taller female. "You take point, Chief."

"Yes, ma'am."

When they approached the spaceport, they all stopped cold in their tracks.

"What is that? Off in the distance," Kaidan said quickly.

"That's the ship," Williams declared.

Shepard just stared at the massive black structure offset against the reddening sky. The bloody arcing electricity skated along its form, but the reason for it was not evident. Its silhouette was like nothing she could place, well, at least in architecture or engineering. It looked like an insect, with little short leg-like structures along the widest point of its diamond-shaped body, and longer, more supportive ones near the lower point. As it lifted into the air, the arcing intensified. The red streaks danced wildly across its dark hull, popping erratically into bright bursts of crimson which lit up the sky. The dim gray contrail chased it upward into the atmosphere as the howling hum of it receded as well. The commander watched, transfixed, until it burst through the cloud cover.

"Shepard," Alenko said, shaking her shoulder.

The shimmer of his barrier at the gunfire pulled her back to the situation at hand. "Watch yourself, Williams," the commander called as she turned her weapon toward one of the transformed colonists downing it quickly as she scrambled out of the line of fire, Alenko moving with her.

"Thanks," the chief sighed before popping out of cover to finish off another geth.

With the geth dispatched, the team cleared the spaceport area. The smugglers were no threat to the squad, whether they were a threat to the colony was another matter. As they approached the docking area, the lieutenant called Shepard's attention to the body.

"Nihlus!" Shepard rushed toward the Spectre and knelt at his side. She yanked off a glove, fingertips searching in vain for the pulse she knew she wouldn't find. _Son of a bitch_. She wanted to scream it, wanted to vent her anger. _Two_. _You managed to lose two good men on a goddamn scavenger hunt_.

Her shoulders slumped as she sat back on her calves, leaning back and looking into the formerly sharp eyes of her dead acquaintance. She cleared her throat and slipped her gauntlet back on. After a quick examination of the Spectre's body, she found what she was looking for. One shot in the back of the head. She inspected the wound, which raised more questions than it answered.

"This was up close. Who the hell could get the drop on a Spectre?" she whispered to his blank eyes as she closed them. "What the hell is going on down here?" Shepard murmured quietly on the open channel.

She didn't want, expect, or get a response. Everyone on the channel knew she was just voicing what they were all thinking and feeling. The crazy scientist they'd run into said he'd seen a turian long before the _Normandy_ arrived, but she'd discounted it because he was off his meds. The smugglers spoke of the invasion in terms that bordered on the fantastical. Then there was the ship. The geth-they hadn't left the quarian home system in three centuries, there was no rhyme or reason to why they would or should be on Eden Prime. _Unless_. _But what could the geth want with Prothean technology?_

With the soft scraping sound, the two marines at her side directed their weapons at a stack of boxes on the deck.

"C'mon out. Slowly." The commander stood, aiming her sidearm into the darkness. "You have to the count of thr-"

The commander didn't have to finish the threat before the man crept out of the darkness; his fear was etched on his face and stained his trousers. The questioning was quick and thorough. The dock worker told them everything he knew fairly easily, even the details that could have gotten him shot. Williams had not been the only one irritated with the man, but they left him to join the other smugglers and proceeded with the mission. She'd include the situation in her report, but she wasn't an MP or a security officer, and she had more pressing concerns.

Shepard's mind ran quickly as they moved toward the tram. _Saren_. _Nihlus knew him. They spoke like old friends then Saren shot him in the back._ At least that was what the dock worker had told them. She believed him because she was fairly certain he was too scared to lie to three armed Alliance marines in the middle of a geth invasion. And in her mind, his story explained the fact that Nihlus was dead, and the method. The turian was not careless; she had read that off him from the start- he wasn't a risk taker. She was well aware that he was calculated, precise, and cautious.

Suddenly despite the ravings, Shepard recalled Manuel. He mentioned seeing a turian prior to the attack. It had not seemed possible at the time, but now-with Nihlus dead, supposedly by another turian. For a moment, the commander couldn't help but wonder if he wasn't quite as crazy as he seemed. _If he had been right about the turian… No. Not now_. She shook her head and pushed onward.

The sound of a rocket thudding against the metal reinforcements caught them by surprise. It could have been a challenge, but the team handled the geth, both large and small, with only minor pause.

"Guess they come in small, medium, and large," the chief quipped as she looked down at the tall black synthetic that had charged her. After it had knocked her back, Williams had thought that was it. But as she'd scrambled backward on the slick deck of the tram cars, Shepard had appeared and sent it flying backwards into a smaller geth behind it before she finished them both off with her Edge.

Alenko had helped the chief to her feet then laughed. "I knew you'd watered that move down."

Shepard turned and cocked an eyebrow at him. "Come now. I didn't want to kill you, just piss you off a little." She toed at the large geth's head with her boot before turning her attention back to Alenko. "How about you take us for a ride, Lieutenant?"

"My pleasure, Commander." He ran over to the console and got it operational again.

"Get us there quick but slow it up when we get close," she said as she leaned toward him, her hand on his shoulder.

He merely nodded as he looked over at her.

"Williams, you've got port side."

"Aye, ma'am." The Chief took up a position on the lieutenant's left and raised her rifle.

Shepard took a step away from the lieutenant, pulling her hand off his shoulder. It had been too easy for her to get that close, she thought as she readied her assault rifle. _Distance, Nyx. Good ole professional distance._ She just hoped the reminder would work. As the tram moved toward the other port, Shepard concentrated on her breathing and watching the perimeter. Just to be safe, she didn't even hazard a glance to her left until they neared the platform.

The tram ride made her nervous, partly because of the overwhelming lack of cover available on the vehicle. The only possible cover that presented itself was the control panel and it wasn't even enough cover for one soldier let alone three. She wanted off that vehicle. Hell, deep down she wanted off Eden Prime.

"What the hell is that?" Williams asked as they approached the other platform.

"Detonation charges," Alenko answered first as he slowed the tram to a halt.

His response had been rather too calm, Shepard thought. _But then again, explosives and various types of tech were right in his wheelhouse, so why wouldn't he be completely calm about a large armed device? _

The chattering on the platform above them, made her jaw clench reflexively. The sound the geth made was quite distinctive. She didn't know if they were communicating with one another but it certainly sounded like it to her, and it was the best answer she had for the sound.

"Handle it, Lieutenant. Cover him, Chief," she ordered, as she dashed up the ramp turning her attention to the geth scattered across the platform. Ashley set herself between the synthetics and Alenko, though no targets came into view or seemed to sight the pair of marines on the lower platform.

"Done," Alenko noted in less than thirty seconds and moved up the ramp with Williams behind him. A quick scan offered the location of another charge. "Other side of the platform, Commander. I can see two."

"Got it." Shepard led the party across the platform. "We'll cover you, take it down fast."

"On it." The lieutenant darted over to the device and tapped furiously alternately on his omnitool and the device interface. Kaidan remained undisturbed by the geth as he disarmed the explosives and removed the detonators for two more devices.

"I'm pinned, ma'am." Williams replied quickly. The sniper and a rocket trooper had the soldier locked down, and Alenko with her. The two looked over at Shepard who was still tucked up behind a crate a few meters behind the other two marines.

Shepard thought a moment before she sheathed herself in blue and sprinted back down the platform then over and back up the other side. "Hold tight," she radioed as she ran.

Williams and Alenko had kept the attention of the geth, which allowed Shepard the freedom to take the time to line up her shot. The resounding crack was followed by a snap and a gush, which drew the attention of the rocket trooper away from her crew. Shepard was already on her feet when the tall, thin, white synthetic faced her. Once the rocket was fired, she made her move. The force of her charge thrust the machine into the chief's line of fire and Williams shredded it.

Dashing up the platform, Shepard slid to a stop near the last charge. She worked fast, watching the timer tick down on the device. When Alenko reached her she was carefully removing the detonator from its housing. She stood and held it out to him as he stared at her wide-eyed. Clearly, he hadn't anticipated her ability to handle disarming the bombs. He took the detonator from her, stowing it with the others before he readied his weapon and brought up the flank.

"There it is," Williams noted, looking at the device they'd been searching for.

"And there they are," Shepard added, indicating the geth with a three-round burst.

The platform was cleared and contained quickly. She did a careful sweep of the port area before making contact with the _Normandy_ to update them on the location of the artifact. The three of them approached the edge of the platform, taking careful note of the scorched earth beyond.

"Looks like someone set off a bomb," Ashley marveled.

"It's the landing site," Shepard intoned.

"What the hell could have done this?"

Shepard looked over at them, both of them were staring at her. She presumed because it was easier than looking at the still molten sign of the invasion. "I don't have the faintest idea," she confided.

"Let's get this thing out of here." The commander turned her back on the massive patch still smoldering and crossed the platform as she raised the _Normandy_. She eyed the humming device for a moment as she spoke with the captain. Alenko seemed fascinated, which wasn't surprising. The commander was still in a state of hyper-awareness and watched both marines carefully as she delivered a quick situation report to the ship about the bombs they'd diffused and the current seemingly active state of the device. Active alien technology was equally as concerning for her as active hostile geth.

**iv.**

* * *

"It wasn't doing anything like that when they dug it up," Williams announced, looking at the glowing device.

"Did anyone say what it is? Or what they thought it was?" Alenko asked as he inspected the device thoroughly circling it widely in an arc.

"I never heard anything about it, but the scientists didn't really talk to us." Ashley turned her attention to the conversation Shepard was having with the _Normandy_.

Kaidan tapped at his omnitool as he took a few readings, trying to place the strange hum that seemed to emanate from the device. The sound was almost comforting, inviting, though the slight tug was a little strange. Without looking away from the artifact, Kaidan's fingers danced across the interface of his 'tool. He finally pulled his eyes away from the device and to his readings. _It is emitting some kind of signal_, but his omnitool couldn't decipher or even record it. He glared at the rebellious device as he took another small step forward.

Suddenly what had been a fairly gentle pulse seemed to grab him insistently. It was reminiscent of when he was a kid and his younger sister would grab his wrist and drag him to whatever discovery she needed to share with her older brother. The main difference in this instance was that Alenko had no desire to find out what this force wanted. No matter how he struggled he still moved toward the device.

As panic started to peek in, there was another force dragging him back. Landing hard on the deck, Kaidan shook his head and leaned up. Shepard gave him a quick triumphant little smirk before she turned and eyed the beacon. Moving to take a step back, the commander lurched forward, almost as if pushed by that unseen force that had been tugging at him moments earlier. It was as if the device finally lost patience with the humans.

"Shepard!" Kaidan yelled, reaching for her as she rose off the ground like a marionette.

"No!" Williams wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him back away. "Don't touch her."

Deep down Alenko knew the chief was right. But he felt responsible, guilty. If he hadn't neared the object, if he'd kept his natural curiosity in check, Shepard wouldn't be in the throes of that force. He knelt there on the dock watching in horrified silence. Williams refused to let go of him. She was gripping him more tightly than necessary and the lieutenant realized he wasn't the only one that was worried.

Shepard just hung there as if suspended by strings. Her hands hung limply from her outstretched arms. Her head lay back as if she were surveying the reddening sky. The rest of her body looked tense. The tightness in her jaw suggested she may even be in pain.

His conscience yelled at him. He'd failed Jenkins in that gully and now he'd just put his squad leader at risk, he'd just put her in extreme danger. Accusatory statements rolled through his mind as he watched in terrified silence as his commander endured some indescribable alien torment because he'd been fascinated by a piece of live Prothean technology.

_And it was all for nothing. Shepard's suffering b__ecause I broke protocol. She could die because I wanted to know the why of something._

Unable to take his eyes off her, Kaidan's guilt multiplied by the second and finally he slammed his hand against the deck in frustration. _Let her go already._ Williams loosened her grip on him. She now merely clung to his shoulders, but when she started to tremble he felt her grip tighten slightly. It was one thing to lose someone quick, like Jenkins-a handful of shots and the little drones had snuffed him out before any of them really registered who or what had done it. _This is too much. _Having to watch, being powerless because they couldn't risk it-this ripped at Kaidan's humanity.

As abruptly as it all began, it ended with an explosion and Shepard crumpled to the ground in a heap. With her release his inaction ended. Hastily scrambling across the dock, Alenko leaned over her and relief struck him like a brick to the face when she glanced up at him with a trace of recognition and smiled weakly. Then it was gone as she fell into unconsciousness.

The staff lieutenant stamped down everything but his training and before Williams rejoined him, he'd started the scan. Her pulse was weaker than he'd like. "_Normandy_. We have a situation. Requesting priority extract this location."

"No can do, Alenko," Joker replied. "Too hot."

He skimmed the readings for a moment. "Give me the nearest coordinates. The beacon exploded. Something happened to Shepard."

"What?" Anderson barked.

"No idea, sir. The beacon was live. It did something to her. But she's in fair enough shape to move. Coordinates, please."

The calm voice that came out of his mouth was a façade, an act that had to hold up until he got them all on the ship. He chewed at the inside of his cheek, irritated with the situation, with himself. But none of that mattered in that moment. Shepard needed him to focus, to be the officer at least for a little while. It wasn't the first time he'd had to take command in the field. But it was the first time he'd had to assume it because he'd screwed up.

The coordinates came over the channel and Williams punched them into the device on her left wrist. "We're on the move," Alenko told the _Normandy_ then looked at the chief, "You're on point."

**v.**

* * *

"Aye, aye, sir," the chief agreed.

Williams stood and glanced at her omnitool, before her eyes were drawn to the lieutenant. He handed her the commander's assault rifle and the Reaper, which she eyed for a moment before stowing. Then she took his AR as well. She surveyed the lieutenant as his hands moved slowly and gingerly down her neck. He stared down at nothing concentrating not on what he saw, but what he felt. Ashley knew the drill, he was checking for a spinal injury, from the fall or from the device.

At first, she thought she was imagining it. But once he'd rolled the commander and lifted her to her feet, Williams was certain he was taking excessive care with the other officer. There was a respect and deference in the way Alenko handled the commander's unconscious form. "All right, Shepard," he muttered, draping her right hand over his shoulder and squatted down. "Up we go."

When he got back to his feet, he glanced at the chief and held out his left hand for his rifle. "Lead on," he told her.

She merely nodded and led them back to the tram. They met no resistance, though they hadn't expected to find much, since they were back tracking through ground they had already cleared. Williams couldn't help but notice the consideration and care Alenko took with the commander. But she couldn't decide whether or not it was a sign of something more than respect for an injured comrade.

Even in her own training, carrying conscious soldiers, Williams had been quite careful with them. And trying to carry another, even if they were smaller than you was still an exercise in extreme caution so as to avoid injuring yourself or the victim.

Retracing their steps through the research camp gave them a little pause, only because the shed door was no longer locked. She hoped the scientists escaped, and when the idea of something else popped into her head, she pushed it back out. _No, they got out. They'll be fine. The commander and the L-T cleared this area. They're fine_, she told herself.

As they got to the path, she noticed Alenko lean his right shoulder against one of the support walls.

"You doing all right, sir? I could…"

"I got it, Williams." He started down toward the trench. The little bite to his voice spoke volumes, the strain of the situation was weighing on both of them.

"It's the armor," the chief speculated, unbidden. "Looks light, feels light. But once you add another's body weight and their armor to your own. Even the tiniest members of your team can be a bitch to carry."

Her eyes went wide when she realized she'd let it slip. But with a glance at the biotic he didn't seem to mind her speaking way too freely. He just chuckled and nodded.

"And if you haven't done it in a while. It can be hard."

"That's probably it," the lieutenant agreed. "I don't think I've done this in a few years, probably since rescue training."

"You?"

He tried to shrug, but it didn't really work. "Hey, I took any training they'd let me near."

"Sounds like me. But something tells me our reasons for it are different."

Williams refused to look at him. She let her eyes scan the direction they were travelling. She'd put in for any training she qualified for because she wanted to be worth the trouble of having on the roster. Ashley worked her ass off for every promotion, every crap detail she'd ever been assigned. All to just prove she was good enough. She didn't do it for recognition, for her it was penance. Her father had tried, but still couldn't overcome their family history. Deep down a part of her hoped she might be able to right things finally.

"I don't know. I just thought it'd make me more valuable," Alenko said easily. "Not a lot of places for biotics to go."

She glanced back at him.

"I just didn't want to get lost in the shuffle you know. Spent most of my career as _that biotic_," he pointed out as they trudged uphill slowly.

"Yeah. I've been there, kind of," Williams agreed. He looked at her curiously. "I mean not right there, I'm no Yoda-"

The shocked laughter made her smile. And he seemed genuinely surprised and pleased with her chosen comparison.

"Yoda, huh?"

"Why not?" she shrugged. "You guys can do all that crazy sh… stuff with your minds. And Yoda was a bad ass. Not the little green big-eared guy you wanted to start any mess with."

"Okay. I guess I can see that."

"But like I was saying. I can get where you're coming from-wanting people to look past the little things. See something more."

"Not necessarily more," he admitted. "Just all, rather than the part that's most prominent."

"Yeah." She nodded, because her voice was drowned out by the sound of the engines of the _Normandy_. The ship set down and the two of them walked up the deck. Chakwas and two corpsmen relieved the lieutenant of his burden, placing the unconscious XO on a stretcher and trotting off toward the elevator with the doctor already starting her work.

The captain looked displeased. When he crossed toward them, she snapped to and saluted. "Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams of the 212," she sounded off, holding the posture.

Her insistence on protocol had the unintentional effect of calming the captain's ire. "Chief. I'm Captain David Anderson. Welcome aboard the _Normandy_." He saluted her. "Let me guess."

"Shepard pulled my six out of the fire."

The captain laughed heavy with the concern that darkened his eyes. "Yeah. She does that," he breathed.

"Sir," Alenko interrupted. "Commander stated she wanted Jenkins brought back with us. I can lead a team-"

"Already handled, Lieutenant. She relayed coordinates," the Captain assured, explaining that McMillan, Crosby, and Niveda had chanced it after the team had reached the objective.

"Now, would you mind telling me what the hell happened down there?"

Alenko stiffened visibly and came to the sharpest state of attention Williams could remember ever seeing. "Captain, it was my fault. I was trying to scan the beacon. It was emitting some type of signal, but I couldn't capture it. I got too close."

His face was stoic, he didn't move, but Ashley could see it in his eyes. He was hurting over this, and taking responsibility, didn't seem to alleviate any of it. Finally he shook his head slightly, more at himself than anything else it seemed, before his eyes darted away for a moment. Alenko tensed up and refocused his gaze on some random point on the other side of the cargo bay.

"Shepard had to throw me clear. But she got close enough for it to grab her"

"Grab her?"

"It lifted her in the air," Williams interrupted. "Held her there, then dropped her just as suddenly. Right before it exploded."

"That's it?" Anderson asked quickly.

"Yes, sir," the two marines agreed in unison.

"And it was humming," Williams volunteered.

"There was also a pulse that seemed biotic in nature," Alenko added. "I'm pretty sure that's how it picked the commander up."

"Get me those readings, Alenko. I mean five minutes ago. I'm going to have to give command something," Anderson barked. "Or they'll have all our stripes."

The captain walked off muttering, and visibly bothered by the events on the ground and it was likely complicated by the fact that his XO had been exposed to alien technology and lay unconscious in medical, or so the chief thought. Alenko looked more than tired, he looked completely drained. Then she felt it too, as the adrenaline production seemed to slow or stop. Her brain suddenly felt sluggish and the ache tensed the muscles she'd overused, some of which she had forgotten about since training.

"You should let one of the corpsmen check you out, Williams. C'mon. I'll give you the highlight reel. Cargo bay. Engineering. Gym. Elevator," he said, pointing at the doors at the back of the bay in turn after having waved a hand at the large open space as they walked to the third door he'd noted.

When they stepped out of the elevator, the directions became more complicated and she was fairly certain she wouldn't remember where the women's bunks were, though the mess and the head, she figured she'd be able to find again. They stopped at the door on the starboard side of the ship and he seemed to stare at the panel for a long moment before he hit it.

"And Medbay."

The activity in the room was more frantic than Williams had expected. Chakwas was yelling clipped directions at the two young men and one woman working with her. Machines beeped and whirred. But eventually the doctor acknowledged them.

"Lieutenant?" Chakwas questioned, by way of greeting.

"I'm going to guess no one can clear the chief here?"

The look in her eyes said it all, and Williams was certain Alenko had blanched. Ashley touched his shoulder and he looked at her sharply. "She'll be okay," she murmured in response to the concern she'd seen in his eyes.

"You can," Chakwas replied. "Maybe by then, I'll be able to free up someone to clear you."

With a light touch between Ashley's shoulder blades, Alenko pressed her toward the table nearest the door. "You heard the doctor."

"I'm fine," Williams argued.

The smile was strained, but he was trying to comfort her a little. "It's just a scan. If everything looks clear, you can grab a bite, a shower, a bunk, or whatever strikes your fancy."

During the scan, Williams was certain both their attentions was elsewhere. She didn't know what they were doing specifically or why-though on the larger scale she could tell they were busting their asses to fix whatever had happened to the commander. By the shifts in his demeanor and his face, the chief was also sure, Alenko knew more about exactly what was happening two tables away. And it concerned him greatly. He cleared her quickly, and without uttering another word.

Ashley thanked him before ducking out of the room. She didn't know what was happening and that was almost as nerve wracking as not knowing anything so the chief opted to take up the lieutenant's first three suggestions in the order they were offered. Once she fell on the thin, stiff mattress of an empty bottom bunk Ashley was out in a flash, awash in the sweet darkness of sleep.

**vi.**

* * *

"Dr. Chakwas," Kaidan called as he hopped off one of the other tables in the Medbay. "I think she's waking up."

The groan accompanied Shepard's left hand slowly rising to her forehead, the thin tubing of the IV seemed to catch her off guard, but the lieutenant caught her other hand before she could rip the line out of her arm. He wrapped her hand with his own and returned it to her side, holding it there as he leaned over her. The curve in her lips was slight, but the relief in her eyes was clear when she squeezed his hand.

"You doing all right, Lieutenant?" she croaked, her throat was dry and her voice hoarse.

He smiled widely. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You gave us quite the scare, Commander," Chakwas stated as she started a scan.

The gray-haired woman glanced up at the staff lieutenant and shooed him back from the table. Alenko chewed at his cheek as he took a step back, reluctantly releasing Shepard's hand. _His concern was admirable, _the doctor thought. But Chakwas could clearly see the guilt weighing on him. She hadn't thrown him out of the medbay after he was cleared because she knew he felt responsible; Karin knew that he was waiting around to be certain the commander was well.

The younger woman's vitals had leveled out a few hours after they returned to the ship, but when they'd first gotten Shepard to medical, Chakwas had her work cut out for her.

"Get this… off me," Shepard ordered, tugging at the IV and swallowing dryly in an attempt to get her normal voice back.

The lieutenant grabbed a bottle of water from the small refrigeration unit in the back of the medbay. Chakwas carefully pulled the IV out and sealed the wound quickly then helped the insistent officer into a sitting position. With a quick nod to Alenko, he opened and handed the bottle to Shepard.

"Appreciated."

"How are you feeling, Commander?" Chakwas asked, studying the officer carefully as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Better than the last time I was in your medbay," the commander quipped.

The doctor shook her head at the recollection. "Yes, well, the last time it was just a few stitches. This time…" Her eyes moved over the scans. "I'm not too sure."

"Whoa. Wait a minute. Did we just enter a parallel dimension? Or did you just tell me 'I don't know?'" Shepard quipped in disbelief.

"I've never seen anything like it, Commander."

"You did!" Shepard's grin was playful, but her tone was serious.

"Commander!" Chakwas warned.

She knew the officer's displeasure with the phrase "I don't know," and Shepard had never heard it from the doctor. Though the commander's seemingly quick return to something akin to her normal behavior was a plus, the doctor had been up too long to play along.

"Okay, okay, Doc. What do you want to know?" Shepard relented, sipping her water.

"How you are feeling?"

"Tired, mainly. Kinda sore," she added, rolling her left shoulder-both women knew it was the site of an old, vicious injury.

Chakwas' eyes narrowed on the petite blonde. "That's it?"

"Nothing a shower, some grub, and a bunk won't cure I'm sure." Shepard stretched her head slowly from side to side. "Okay, a little stiff too." She looked around for a moment. "What the hell happened down there?" she asked, mostly to her lieutenant.

"I screwed up. Got to close to the device. You had to push me out of the way."

Commander Shepard shrugged. "Eh. It happens."

"I knew better," he argued, taking a step toward his squad leader. "I should have followed protocol. Active, unknown alien technology," he muttered the last, shaking his head.

"Hey," she said sharply, slapping her hand on the cover of the mattress to make the sound more striking. But it garnered the desired effect-Alenko went silent and his eyes shot to the commander's. "You had no way of knowing what would happen." She stared at him for a long moment, and when she nodded at him once, he mimicked it. Then Shepard turned and winked at the doctor. "Besides the doctor loves having me as a patient. It probably made her whole cruise."

Chakwas scoffed and shook her head at the blonde. The corners of the Lieutenant's mouth turned upward just a hair, but made no reply or further arguments. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking on her part, but to the doctor it looked as if the exchange might have relieved some of what she'd seen earlier.

"Indeed," Chakwas replied incredulously.

Shepard moved to slide off the edge of the table and Alenko and Chakwas darted forward to stop her. "So, I'm free to go," Shepard stated, there wasn't even a trace of a question in the XO's voice.

"Not yet."

The glare was a challenge. One that Chakwas would not back down from. She didn't care how much Shepard wasn't keen on doctors, hospitals, and medical bays, despite it being her father's chosen profession. Or maybe it was because of it.. Both women knew that Shepard was aware that her release would be based on the doctor's opinion of her condition, not the soldier's own appraisal.

"How long?"

"As long as it takes, Commander," Chakwas stated with the trace of a triumphant smile on her lips.

Thankfully, when the captain came in, he reinforced the doctor's prerogative on the issue, which set Shepard in bit of a sour mood. When Chakwas returned to medical, Shepard was sitting on the bed with her feet tucked up, her arms loosely resting on her knees. She didn't look relaxed, which seemed to be what the lieutenant commander was going for with the nonchalant pose. The tension was clear in her brow and the tightness of her lips. Only rarely were doctors on anyone's need-to-know list, and Karin knew not to even wonder what might have Shepard so on edge, but she did know a way to address it.

With a quick swipe over Shepard's bared upper arm, Chakwas injected her. "You need to relax, Commander. We'll see how the scans are in the morning. Just take it easy right now. This will help."

"What'd you gi…"

Knowing her smile contained a note of wickedness, Chakwas tried to bite it back. Shepard was the worst patient she'd ever had-fought her every step of the way during her recovery on Elysium. It was not the reaction she would have expected from the child of an Alliance doctor. Then when the brass had all but ordered the operator's release, Chakwas got to regularly repair new damage to wounds that could have healed better or completely if the officers up the chain of command had just given Shepard the two additional days the doctor had requested. The doctor knew who Shepard was before the woman appeared on her trauma table. She'd also heard about what she'd done just prior to arriving on the same.

The doctor admired the other woman. Felt a connection to her. They were both dedicated to their work and the Alliance. And in their own ways, they were both as stubborn about the same. As much as Shepard wanted to get back to her own work; Chakwas wasn't going to let the officer run roughshod over her, because the doctor's work was just as vital, just as important. Normally, she wouldn't drug her patients to garner their cooperation, but Nyx Shepard was a special case.


End file.
